Growing Up Dixon
by pitbullsrok
Summary: A look into the lives of the Dixon brothers thru Daryl's eyes. Rated M for language. Follows season 1 somewhat.
1. Chapter 1 REST

A/N: So … this story is a special request from a friend (you know who you are) and I am hoping to delve into the mind of Mr. Daryl Dixon a little, as well as give him some sort of background story, at least from my perspective anyway. Let me know what you guys think … I will be posting more ASAP!

The air was still warm outside, yet the slight breeze gave Daryl an unexpected chill. He shook it off, turning his attention to the small fire in front of him. He stoked it a few more times and lay back onto the patch of dirt that was his bed for the evening, as the sounds of chirping crickets filled the darkness around him. The stars were out that night and he felt surprisingly relaxed out in the middle of the woods, all alone. The hunt hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped, yet he managed to round up a half-dozen squirrels. At least he knew Merle would be happy … he didn't really care so much what everyone else thought. He decided it best to rest for a few hours until the sun came up, before heading back to camp. His eyelids grew heavy and he felt his body slowly relax, allowing his mind to wander into the depths of his subconscious.

"_God Dammit Daryl! Git that no good drunken brother 'o yers outta my sight, 'fore I kick him in the teeth! I mean it now … Beau don't need ta see that shit when he gits home!"_

"_Yes maw" Daryl mumbled quietly. He leaned over the loveseat and pulled Merle's arm up until he could maneuver himself underneath it._

"_C'mon Merle … git up! … hurry … 'fore Beau gits here" Daryl mustered all of his strength to heave his older brother up and drag him to his bedroom at the back of the house. Half lowering him, and half dropping him onto the bed, Daryl looked down at the face of his brother … the one person in the world he actually gave a shit about. At fourteen Daryl had already been through more bullshit than most people go through their entire lives. Even though Merle was nine years older than Daryl, the two of them had somehow managed to stay close. Daryl could read the lines on Merle's face like a book; the pain of a person plagued by haunting memories of alcohol, starvation, abuse, and addiction. Daryl knew some of those memories all too well. _

_One by one, Daryl pulled off Merle's muddy boots and shoved a pillow under his head. He sat down on the floor and watched the rise and fall of Merle's chest as he drifted into a wasted slumber. Mama thought he was only drunk, but Daryl knew better. He knew that once Merle woke up, the sickness would set in and Daryl would have to change the puke bucket next to the bed. Daryl would have to turn the fan on and off as Merle would get the chills, and then the sweats. Daryl would have to bring him water and aspirin if he asked for it. And … Daryl would have to avoid Merle's angry fists as he pleaded with his little brother to go find him another baggie of junk to "take the edge off". It was nothing new. _

_Daryl heard the front door open and the muffled sounds of his step-father as he entered the tiny house. Daryl scooted closer to the door and closed it, leaving just enough space to allow him to catch the conversation in the living room. _

" … '_bout time it got cleaned properly!" the sound of Beau's voice gave Daryl the creeps. Beau was a behemoth of a man who had no reservations about using his size to intimidate anyone he came in contact with. Especially Merle and Daryl. Couple that with his drinking problem and it made for some intense and bloody battles in the Dixon home._

"_Well, I'm glad you noticed" Mama's voice taking all of the credit for the clean house. _

_Daryl rolled his eyes. She hadn't done a goddamned thing except stand over his shoulder while he did all of the work. He couldn't figure out exactly when it was that Mama had changed so much. She never used to be so angry all of the time. She used to cook meals for Merle and Daryl every night, and even laugh once in a while. Maybe it was their father going to prison that upset her so much. Maybe it was Merle growing up and getting into all that trouble. Either way, Daryl was tired of what she had become, and he was even more tired of being responsible for keeping the peace between everyone in the house … or at least attempting to._

"_Where's that son 'o yers? He been around lately?" Daryl could tell Beau was already drunk by the slight slur in his words. Great._

"_Yeah … he was here earlier … but he, uh …he's gone" Mama stumbled with the lie._

_Why would she lie about Merle being here? Was she just protecting herself? Merle had just as much right to be here as anyone else! She knew as well as Daryl, that if Beau caught her in a lie, somebody would pay … most likely with a black eye. Daryl turned back to the body on the bed, and prayed to God that Merle would sleep straight through the night and not wake up until after Beau left for work in the morning. The last time Merle was this trashed, it was near four in the morning when he came stumbling in. Daryl tried to get him into bed but he just wouldn't shut up. Of course Beau woke up and beat the ever-living shit out of Merle, and broke Daryl's nose … just to be an asshole. _

_The beatings were really nothing to Daryl. It just meant a few bruises, a little pain, and a good whiskey drunk to help forget all about it. No, the beatings were nothing. What killed Daryl the most was the fact that Mama never stood up for her sons. She simply stood there, giving Daryl the look that said he deserved every crack he got._

"_Good … when's that other boy gonna start earnin' his keep 'round here?"_

_Daryl shifted uneasily. Beau couldn't even say his fucking name. _

"_I don't know … soon I hope. Their both about as worthless as their father" _

_Daryl closed his eyes and wished the tears away as hard as he could. He fought the rage building inside of him like a tornado and he fought to control the fire in his belly and the throbbing in his brain … but, it didn't work. His face blushed as the rush of emotion completely took over. The trembling in his lungs danced in time with the lump in his throat. The sobs quietly escaped his mouth. He hung his head, glad that Merle wasn't awake to see him at his weakest moment. God, why couldn't Merle just take him away? Why couldn't he see the pain in his little brother's eyes every time he looked? It was obvious that Mama didn't love either of them anymore and all he wanted to do was run far away, but he couldn't. He wouldn't … not without Merle._

_Taking a deep breath, he wiped his face with the back of his sleeve and looked back at his brother. In a way, he felt sorry for Merle since he usually got the brunt of the beatings from Beau. But at the same time, Daryl was angry at Merle. Angry that he couldn't control his habits. Angry that he couldn't keep his mouth shut and his temper in check. Angry that he didn't realize how much Daryl hated it here. _

_Daryl needed a smoke. He got up and shuffled through Merle's pockets until he found a half-smashed box of Marlboro's. With the flick of a lighter, Daryl inhaled deeply and let out the smoke as slow as possible, enjoying the slight nicotine-induced buzz. He crept over to the cracked window and sat beneath it, exhaling through the ratty screen. A few moments later, he heard the grumble of the TV and the creak of the oven door. As his stomach let out a loud rumble, he wondered if he would be allowed any dinner tonight. _

Daryl shot straight up, crossbow in hand. His heart was racing a mile a minute, but he remained still, only moving his eyes to see through the morning fog. Once he determined there was no immediate threat, he let out the breath he was holding. He stood up and took another weary look around just to be sure.

Dawn had just broken and the forest was eerily quiet. Daryl sat back down by the smoldering fire and rubbed his head with his free hand. This was the second night in a row that he had dreamt of his childhood and it was starting to scare him a little. Too many years had passed since those terrible nights in his mother's house and somehow he had managed to tuck them all away into the corners of his memory. The world goes to hell, and suddenly they were all flooding back to him in his dreams … and Daryl didn't like it one bit.

He had always been the "no use dwelling on the past' kinda guy and frankly, he liked it that way. But … something kept coming back to haunt him, something Merle didn't even know about.

Daryl quickly got up and started packing what little gear he had, shoving the thought out of his head with brute-like force. He needed to get back to the camp as soon as possible, knowing everyone was counting on him for a few more meals. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

He stomped out the last of the glowing embers with his boot, and slung the catch of the day over his shoulder. Heading off in the direction of the quarry, his pace was quick and light, but he couldn't help his heart from feeling heavy. There was something else urging him along with uncanny speed. He wanted to squelch the peculiar feeling in his gut. The feeling that something was seriously wrong …


	2. Chapter 2 ANGER

**A/N: As I said before, this follows Season 1, however … I do not own a copy of this yet (I know, shame on me!) so forgive me if the dialogue isn't **_**exactly**_** like the show … I'm doing my best! *ducks from spitwads***

Jumping over a fallen tree, Daryl swiftly landed on his feet into a crouched position, remaining perfectly still to get a glimpse of the deer he had spotted earlier. It was a large deer and would make more than a few nice meals. But Daryl knew that the closer he could herd the animal towards camp, the better off he would be. There was no way in hell he could haul that thing all the way back by himself, so he'd have to get his brother to help him. He thought for a moment that luck had been on his side as the deer wandered closer and closer to the quarry. After a few miles, Daryl had managed to keep a safe distance but he knew he could only hold off for so long before the deer caught on and headed in the opposite direction.

_Well … here goes nothing'_

He inhaled a deep breath, one eye automatically squinting shut as he aimed for the head of the animal. He slowly exhaled, and pulled the trigger just as the deer bent down to eat something off of the ground. The arrow struck it in the shoulder and it immediately took off in a frightened stupor.

_Shit, shit, shit …_

Daryl hauled ass to follow the buck, somehow landing two more arrows in the body before the adrenaline wore off, and he was forced to sit and catch his breath. It had been two days since Daryl had eaten a remotely decent meal, and the lack of energy only pissed him off even more. The good news was that the deer was still heading in the direction of the camp, so with any luck the shots that landed would have him dead within twenty-four hours. That would give Daryl time to grab Merle and track down the damn thing.

After a few minutes, he got up and resumed his trek back to camp. As the brush was got thicker and harder to push through … Daryl knew he was close. He could hear the faint murmur of voices in the distance and breathed a short sigh of relief. Huffing out a few curse words when his rope got caught on a branch, he became acutely aware of the sudden silence.

With one last heave, he tore through the last of the brush only to be met by several members of the camp; weapons drawn.

"Jesus, what the hell?"

"Shit Daryl! You scared us half to death. Thought you were another walker" Dale sighed as he lowered his axe. The others rolled their eyes as they slowly withdrew and thankfully went back to their mundane tasks.

Daryl was just about to ask what he meant by 'another' walker when his foot stumbled into the answer. A nasty looking beheaded corpse lay at his feet … right next to his precious prey. He stood in shock for a brief moment, before stepping over the mess and pulling his arrows out of the animal.

"Son of a bitch … that's MY deer!"

Daryl tried to forget about the mouth-watering meal that just slipped through his hands, and vowed to catch a deer in the next few days, one way or another. Stepping around the carcass, Daryl spotted the head of the walker still writhing a little and he mumbled, "C'mon people … what the hell" before promptly piercing its skull with an arrow. He pushed past his fellow campers and bellowed for his brother.

"Merle! … Git yer ass out here … I got us some squirrel!"

There it was again … that deafening silence.

"Merle! … You hear me? I got dinner!" Daryl headed over towards the fire. For a moment he just assumed that Merle was avoiding everyone else in camp, like he always did. But then, that feeling in his gut came roaring up when a man he didn't recognize broke the silence.

"Daryl … we need to talk"

Daryl's first thought was that Merle had done something to piss everyone off … again. But something was different this time, he could see it in the eyes of the women, mostly. It was a look of pity, rather than their usual disgust.

His pulse quickening and feet pacing, Daryl listened to the story of what had happened in the city. The next few minutes were nothing more than a hazy blur of anger. Fists and squirrels flew and words were exchanged although Daryl had no recollection of what exactly was said, until he found himself in a headlock.

His mind was racing … he wanted to punch something, or someone, until his arms gave out. He wanted to make someone else feel the twisting nausea in his chest that was bubbling up into his throat. He didn't know what Merle had done, and he really didn't give a shit. Leaving a man behind … _on purpose_ … was sheer cruelty. It occurred to Daryl that he would leave any one of these stuck-up pricks behind, if it meant saving his own life. But Merle? He knew damn well that Merle couldn't have been slowing them down. Those guys needed Merle, regardless of what they told themselves. No … Merle was probably high and being an asshole. But … being an asshole was _not_ a reason to leave him behind. You leave someone behind who was bitten … or bleeding out … or losing their mind, but not for being an asshole.

Then a frightening thought hit him … maybe Merle _was_ losing his mind. Maybe he freaked out and none of them knew how to handle him. Daryl had more experience with that than he cared to think about, seeing as he was the last person on the planet who had any sense of compassion for Merle … even _before_ the damned apocalypse.

His instincts took over, and instead of wallowing in pity, Daryl tried to focus on the conversation. As soon as the words came out of T-Dog's mouth, Daryl's gears were turning. He knew what he had to do. He had to go back to save his brother. Before he could say anything, the new guy, Rick, declared that he was going back too. Normally, Daryl would have been shocked that someone wanted to help Merle, but he knew it was only a guilty conscience talking.

Daryl grabbed his crossbow and as many arrows as he could, and climbed into the boxvan while the others were talking about guns and arguing about safety _blah blah blah_ …

He should have known there were ulterior motives to saving his brother. He reached up and honked the horn with his foot. BEEP! BEEP!

"Let's go!" he shouted, ready to jump in the driver's seat and head out alone if they didn't hurry the hell up.

The ride into Altanta was agonizingly slow, and all Daryl could think about was who he was gonna hurt if Merle was dead …

"_Whatchu guys got there?" the little girl asked Daryl._

"_Nothin' Sara … go on home now" he attempted to shoo her away._

"_If you guys got some candy, I want some too" she pleaded, completely ignoring his request._

_Merle leaned over and hissed "Ok fine! But your only gittin' one piece, ya hear? If yer maw finds out we gave you chocolate, she'd have our hides tanned!" Merle opened the brown paper bag and reached inside, pulling out a single Hershey bar. He handed it to the little girl, whose eyes were wide with anticipation. _

_Daryl grumbled "C'mon Merle! You said that candy was fer me!" _

_Merle gave him a swat on the shoulder, "Quit yer cryin' boy … there's a whole bag full here. 'Sides … I'm the one who stole the change from Beau … so that makes it mine anyway"_

_Daryl kicked a rock with his shoe and looked over at Sara. She couldn't have been more than five years old and here she was, wandering around town alone. Her mother lived down the street from the Dixons, and used to gossip with the neighborhood housewives on a regular basis. Sara had no other siblings and usually bothered Daryl and Merle, if they were around. Daryl remembered the time a few years back that he found her in the street with nothing on but a diaper. Poor thing was crying for her mom. When he picked her up and carried her to the front door, the young woman simply rolled her eyes and opened the door, not removing the phone from her ear. She continued to laugh and squeal with the person on the other end of the line, while she put Sara in the playpen and threw a teddy bear at her. _

_Daryl felt sorry for her suddenly as he realized why Merle gave her the candy. He looked over at Merle, and caught a hint of a smile on his lips as he watched the skinny little girl devour the candy bar, leaving chocolate smears all over her cheeks._

The truck hit a big pothole and Daryl was jolted out of his thoughts. The events of the afternoon swirled around inside his head. He tried to prepare himself for whatever it was they might find on that rooftop. He decided right then and there, that if Merle had turned into one of those …_ things_ … that he would shoot him first, and then beat the ever-loving shit out of the rest of the group.

As his heart started to race, he glared in T-Dog's direction.

"You _better_ hope he's ok …"


	3. Chapter 3 PROMISE

The anticipation was killing him … literally. Daryl thought he might actually be having a heart attack right there on the goddamn staircase. He didn't have the first clue what he would find once T-Dog opened that door, and further more, he didn't have a clue what would happen if Merle was dead. Christ … if Merle was still alive there would surely be hell to pay for someone. A thousand scenarios ran through his mind: unlocking Merle and keeping him from killing anyone; trying to drag an unconscious Merle back to the truck; seeing Merle's lifeless body; having to put an arrow through the head of his former brother because those 'things' had gotten a hold of him somehow. He shuddered at that last thought.

Daryl's head was starting to spin as he felt the acid in his stomach bubble up towards his throat. Swallowing the fear and trying to focus, Daryl took a deep breath. T-Dog cut the heavy chain, and with one swift kick, Daryl had the rooftop door opened and was sprinting through it, across the plank, down the steps, and …

Daryl stopped in his tracks. He thought he had come up with every possible outcome … but he was wrong.

"NO! NO! NO!" Daryl screamed at the top of his lungs. He began pacing back and forth, barely containing his anger and pain. The next thing he knew, his crossbow was aimed at T-Dog's face. He didn't remember doing it. It just happened. Too bad Rick's gun just _happened_ to be aimed at Daryl's head. Ain't life a bitch?

For a moment time stopped. Daryl's thought process went full circle from saying 'screw it' and pulling the trigger, to dropping his weapon and saving himself, back to the whole 'screw it' thing. He could act like he didn't care … but deep down, he knew he did, and he knew he wasn't done looking for his brother. The chances of finding Merle now were slim to none, but Daryl understood that he'd have better luck with the help of these men. Reluctantly, he lowered his weapon. He took a few steps back, regained his composure, and began to inspect the scene.

Merle's hand lay in a pool of dried blood, just below the handcuffs still swaying in the slight breeze. Daryl knelt down to get a closer look at what was left of his flesh and blood. Pulling a dew rag out of his pocket, he picked up Merle's hand and examined it closely …

"_Watch it little man! Yer gonna git yerself killed!" Merle shouted from the bottom of the hill, but Daryl was on a mission. He was bound and determined to show his big brother just how tough he was. He picked his feet up and put them on the pedals of his tricycle and started down the hill. Faster and faster he went until the pedals were spinning so fast that Daryl had to take his feet off of them and balance them out to the sides. _

"_Whoa! Sweeeeeeeeeet!" he screamed, the wind filling his mouth and blowing his cheeks out, making him look like a chipmunk. Daryl fell in love with the freedom that came from flying down that hill, and he didn't ever want to stop; until about halfway down. His dirty knuckles turned to white as his hands clamped down on the steering wheel. _

"_Merle! Help!" he shouted but the wind seemed to carry his voice in the other direction and before he knew it, Daryl crashed into the streetlight in front of the ice cream store, slamming his six-year-old body sideways against the trash can. Then … everything went black. _

_He felt a warm heartbeat against his shoulder and the searing pain in his left arm warned him not to move it. Daryl kept his eyes shut for a few minutes … afraid of what he might see when he opened them. For a minute, he felt like he was on a boat … gently rocking back and forth, and he wondered if he was in Heaven. He wondered if he would open his eyes and see his Grandma, waiting to take him to play on the clouds. Then he heard a voice," you 'wake?" It was Merle. Daryl nodded his head ever-so-slightly. _

"_Ma's gonna be pissed at you … prob'ly ground ya fer a month" Merle's voice was an unlikely comfort._

_The rocking motion wasn't water … it was the slow gait of his big brother carrying him down the street … probably to the hospital. Daryl opened his eyes just enough to make out Merle's hand gripped around the back of his knees. Daryl had seen that hand do a lot of things … but something was different now. The skin was a little dirty, there was motor oil underneath the jagged fingernails, and the calluses were still there. But … there was something about they way it was wrapped around its precious cargo that Daryl had never noticed before. The hand was gentle; gentle and solid at the same time. _

"_damn … you shoulda seen yer face! I thought You was gonna piss yer pants!" Merle chuckled._

"… _my lil' bro … speed racer"_

_A smile crept onto Daryl's face._

"_Merle?"_

"_What?"_

"_Where's my big wheel?"_

_There was a small pause. "…ain't much left of it"_

_Merle looked down at Daryl and saw the disappointment on his brow. "I'm sure we can git ya a new one … just hafta mow a few yards is all"_

Daryl wrapped the hand up and put it in Glenn's backpack without asking. To hell with him, if he didn't like it. He noticed Rick and T-Dog starring at him, obviously bewildered. This whole situation was royally fucked, thanks to them … and _he_ was the one getting scrutinized?

God dammit, why couldn't anyone understand? This was the only person he had left in this shit-hole of a world! Sure, Merle was a stubborn asshole, but so what? He was still his brother! Did they think the Dixon's had no feelings? Did no one else realize that they were all fighting for their lives, here?

He couldn't honestly count the number of times that he'd wished Merle would tell him to pack up, that they were leaving the group. They'd probably survive better than anyone of these people, with their fake smiles, and unappreciative attitudes.

Daryl really had no idea why his brother hadn't bailed earlier … and now, he might never find out.

There were only two things keeping Daryl from abandoning the group … and one of them had now gone missing. Not to mention the fact that he had a nasty open wound, no food or water, and no way of defending himself against the undead.

Daryl made himself a promise right then and there. When he found Merle, he would tell him everything.

Everything that he was afraid to tell him before.

Everything that seemed to matter so much more, now that the world had gone to hell.


	4. Chapter 4 TROUBLE

**A/N: Sorry this one took so long! I honestly struggled with it for a bit. But … I think it turned out OK, and hopefully lives up to your expectations! To make up for the wait, I made this one a smidgeon longer … and you may finally get a hint at what's to come! ;-} Brace yourself!**

****Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers … you are the bomb-diggity *HUGS***

Daryl's mind shifted into survival mode. He needed to concentrate on finding Merle and saving his life, if he wasn't dead already. Merle was made of piss and vinegar, sure … but not steel.

Thankfully, Daryl had been blessed with killer instincts and an ability to follow said instincts, unmatched by anyone besides his brother. He spoke out loud, to no one in particular. "He musta used a tourniquet … there'd be much more blood if he didn't"

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Daryl cautiously followed the trail across the rooftop, and down into the department store; Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog in silent pursuit. Here, the group came to discover a few things about Merle. Number one, he cauterized his wound with a hot iron. Number two, he managed to kill two walkers with only one hand. Number three, he left the building and was no where to be found. Daryl was once again reminded that Merle could take just about any punishment he got.

The decision was made to get the bag of guns first, and then scout around for Merle. Daryl wasn't completely happy with this, but knew the guns would be a big help if they needed to roam around Atlanta. Little did any of them know just how fucked up things were going to become.

In a matter of minutes, some crazy Mexicans were pummeling Daryl with a baseball bat, kidnapping Glenn, and stealing the weapons and ammo! Much to Daryl's delight, he managed to shoot one of the little bastards in the ass, but as he struggled to reload the crossbow, the only thing he could hear was Glenn screaming for help.

"Daryl! Daryl!"

By the time he got up, their getaway car had sped off down the road and walkers were closing in from all directions. Quickly Daryl closed the gate, saving himself momentarily. He turned back to see Rick and T-Dog heading up the alley. Rick arrived just in time to keep Daryl from attacking the young vato that had snuck up on him in the first place.

"I'm gonna stomp yer ass!" he screamed as Rick shoved him backwards. Daryl was utterly pissed. The sneaky little bastard did nothing but make noise, which of course attracted the undead, and allowed his buddies to take off without him. Daryl thought it served him right.

'They took Glenn!" he yelled to Rick and T-Dog, who looked downright lost … they had no idea what all had just happened. The walkers were gaining ground quickly, so T-Dog grabbed the teenager and the three of them headed back to the relative safety of the department store once again.

As Daryl paced back and forth, he struggled with the thought of rescuing Glenn and why Rick was so adamant about it. He liked the kid too, but it just seemed like too big of a risk, and Daryl was still concerned about finding his wounded brother. They got the guns … what more did they need? Was it worth their own lives to go back? His head was spinning and still coming down off the adrenaline rush. He managed to scare the shit out of the young man, Miguel by throwing Merle's hand at him. He wanted this puke to know_ exactly_ what he was dealing with.

Eventually, Daryl was able to calm himself down and steady his breathing, and his thoughts turned to Glenn, or rather, Glenn's voice. He couldn't get it out of his head. He kept hearing his name over and over again … he kept seeing Glenn's face pleading for Daryl's help. Maybe that was what drove him to go back. Maybe he thought saving Glenn would make up for being too late to save his brother.

For a moment, Daryl pictured the screams for help coming from Merle on the rooftop. The image sent a chill down his spine. Fuck.

Daryl felt his stomach turn as he thought of his own predicament. At least he and Merle had each other … until now anyways. Glenn didn't have anyone else, only the people at the camp. He had put himself directly in danger's ugly path for complete strangers, without evening hesitating. Glenn risked his own life, dodging the dead only to get kidnapped by the living! Irony aside, it just wasn't right. If they didn't save him ... then who would?

It was obvious that Merle wasn't going down without one hell of a fight, so Daryl tried to re-assure himself that Merle would be just fine. Hell, Merle probably had a better chance surviving alone and injured, than Glenn did with those gang-bangers. They just needed to get this over with. The quicker they rescued Glenn, the quicker he could get back to camp, the quicker he could talk to Merle.

The three men and their fortuitous hostage headed out to make the trade, however the meeting didn't go as well as planned. The leader, Guillermo, made it clear that he didn't want to trade unless the guns were a part of the package.

Daryl chuckled to himself at the thought that the kid wasn't worth as much as he pretended to be.

The small-statured Mexican was smart though, and as he whistled, the others pushed a very nervous Glenn to the edge of their own roof. He wasn't fucking around. Daryl's pulse began to quicken, as he felt the situation getting worse by the minute.

_Is this what they call a Mexican standoff?_

Keeping his head in the game, he began to glance around for any signs of weakness. Anything they might be able to use to their advantage, if the need arose. He sized up a few of the men, and decided that if the shit hit the fan, he would take down the one he shot in the ass first. Kill the weakest.

Rick and Guillermo continued to talk, while Daryl was taking mental notes. He even asked about Merle but the only response he got was, "we're fresh outta white boys". Fuckin' prick.

They were lucky they hadn't found Merle. Daryl was positive there would be a few less spics standing in front of him, if they had.

The sheriff finished bargaining with Guillermo and Miguel was stuck with his new pals for a little longer. As they slowly retreated, Daryl stole a glance upwards at Glenn. The poor kid looked scared shitless. Daryl shifted uncomfortably knowing damn well they might not be able to save him.

"_What'll it be stranger?"_

"_Beer and a shot … SoCo" Daryl replied coldly, without even looking up._

"_Huh … some things never change … do they Dixon?"_

_Her words sounded sweet like homegrown honey. Daryl turned to see a young woman giving him an innocent smile, something he really wasn't used to. She had a tiny diamond stud in her nose. Her chestnut hair was pulled up into a loose knot, and the faded reddish streaks made her eyes sparkle. Pale blue eyes, that held a hint of something familiar._

_Daryl's face had hardly changed expression, not having the faintest idea who she was._

"_What's the matter, you don't recognize me without chocolate on my face?" she smirked and turned to grab beer from the fogged up coolers against the back of the bar. As she spun a bottle of Southern Comfort around her tiny palm, she slammed two clean shot glasses onto the old wooden bar … and that's when it hit him._

"_Sara? … I'll be damned" was all he could manage._

_He must have looked as shocked as he felt._

_She let out a small huff … "Nice to see you, too Daryl". She poured the shot for him and one for herself. Their glasses clanked together as they whiskey was tossed back, and she leaned in close, "…on the house" she whispered, giving him a quick wink._

"_That brother o' yers still around?" she asked._

_Daryl really didn't feel like talking about Merle, especially after the fight they had last night._

"_Yep"_

_Sara snickered. "Still an asshole, too?"_

_Daryl chuckled once."Yep"_

_She left the conversation at that, and continued down the bar to serve the other patrons, leaving Daryl to his thoughts._

_He watched her closely for the next few minutes, noticing how much she had grown up. Christ, the last time he saw her she was barely old enough to drive. Once he got a good look at her face, he wondered why on earth he hadn't recognized her in the first place. Her face was astonishingly similar to the once-chubby one he knew so well from his childhood. She had grown into a beautiful woman, although tension seemed to seep from her body, as if she held on to some constant worry. He could relate. _

_He took another swig of his beer and tried to think of something to say to her … but he wasn't sure where to start. So … instead, he just kept his eyes on the TV in the corner, not really paying attention to whatever was flickering across the screen._

_Not even three full minutes had passed when there was a loud BANG at the front door. Daryl gave a slight glance over his shoulder as he heard some heavy breathing._

"_Dixon!"_

_No answer._

"_Daryl! … You better git out here … it's yer brother!"_

"_Fine" Daryl muttered from the inside of his half-empty beer mug. He swallowed the rest in one giant gulp, and threw a ten dollar bill on the bar._

_He looked up at Sara, whose wide eyes were starring at him, puzzled._

"_Don't worry … I'll git 'em home before he starts any shit. Keep the change"_

_Daryl walked towards the door, but her voice stopped him, "Thanks"_

_He paused to look up at her, and noticed a slight blush on her cheeks._

"_Don't be a stranger." she said, flashing a smile._

_Daryl just nodded and headed out to see what kind of bullshit Merle had gotten into this time._

Reality kicked Daryl in the stomach, once again. He was back in the department store, trying to plan their next move.

"What life I have, I owe to him" Rick said solemnly.

"You just gonna give the guns back?" questioned Daryl.

"I didn't say that" Rick replied.

Daryl's eyes met Rick's and in that moment … he knew Rick wasn't going anywhere without Glenn. Daryl gave him a quick nod of approval and began loading his weapons.

Daryl wasn't sure exactly why he needed to go back for Glenn. He just did. He knew it was risky. He knew they could all end up dead. Wouldn't that be some shit? Surviving the apocalypse … just to end up being shot by some fuckin' homies! Jesus Christ, what was he thinking? They were clearly out-numbered and even if they were able to sneak up on the place, there was only one way in and the men would surely have more than a few guns guarding it.

As they all headed back to Guillermo's place, a vision of a tiny woman flashed through Daryl's mind. He shook it off, telling himself this wasn't the time or place. If he could just get through this, there would be plenty of time to think about _her_ … about all of it. About the truth he was dying to know.

Daryl wiped the sweat from his brow and slid his hand down the side of his leg, wiping the moisture onto his pants. He took a deep breath as they approached the enemy's stronghold.

This is it. Do or fucking die.


	5. Chapter 5 FIGHT

**Walk you home to see, where your livin' around, and I know this place  
>Pour yourself on me, And you know I'm the one, th<strong>**at you won't forget**

**And in your denim eyes, I see something's awry, and I see you're weak  
>When he comes around, I see your fixin' to shine, and my face won't speak<strong>

**Hate to be so emotional  
>I didn't aim to get physical<br>But when he pulled in and revved it up  
>I said, 'you call that a pick up truck?'<strong>

**And in the moonlight I throwed him down  
>Kickin' screamin' &amp; rolling around<br>A little piece of a bloody tooth  
>Just so you know I was thinking of you<br>Just so you know ******  
><strong> 

The tension in the air had become unbearable, and Daryl's heart was racing. Rick and Guillermo were having a discussion, whatever that meant, but the rest of the men in the room were all silent and on edge. Things suddenly got heated when Rick reminded Guillermo that the bag of guns were non-negotiable. The dreadful silence of the room was broken by the sound of guns cocking and men yelling in English and Spanish alike.

Daryl braced himself for the firefight, just as a tiny old woman came hobbling around the corner. Bewilderment crept over the faces of the camp members, while the mood of the vatos shifted to a softer, but uneasy one.

Daryl wasn't about to shoot an old lady, unless she shot at him first, but he was prepared to do whatever was necessary to ensure his own survival. He gave them a stern warning, "Git that ol' lady outta the line 'o fire!"

The tiny woman spoke to Rick, and although Daryl couldn't hear everything that was said … he was pretty sure he understood. The woman said she knew where the Asian boy was, and proceeded to take Rick's hand and lead him away.

T-Dog and Daryl followed suit; Daryl keeping his gun drawn, still not trusting any one of these little fuckers.

What happened next, was nothing short of a shock. Daryl found himself wandering through the halls of a nursing home, filled to the brim with elderly people … some of them obviously too sick to move. The Mexican men were taking care of them, after they had been abandoned by the staff.

Daryl understood why they did it. Why they were here, why they put up such a harsh defense, why they couldn't be open about what they were doing.

It was for family … simple enough. Daryl was in the same goddamned predicament. As he looked around at the faces of all the men and women in bathrobes and wheelchairs, he actually felt sorry for them. Their own families, whether blood or otherwise, had deserted them. He couldn't imagine what that felt like … what Merle probably felt like.

Still, the instinct coursing through Daryl's veins told him that these people were better off right here, where they at least had shelter and protection. He just hoped that Rick's weakness for helping people less fortunate didn't cloud his judgment. They couldn't afford to bring any of these people with them. Hell, they could barely keep everyone at the camp alive, and none of them were handicapped for Christ's sake!

Eventually Rick decided to give Guillermo a few of the guns from the bag, and Glenn was once again part of the pack. The four men headed back to the van, only to discover that is wasn't there! Daryl was baffled. He knew damn well that the geeks couldn't have taken it.

"Who would've taken it?" asked T-Dog.

Rock growled, "Merle!"

Daryl wasn't really shocked … Merle probably didn't even know that the van was theirs to begin with. He knew how to hotwire just about anything, although Daryl guessed it would be a bit tricky with only one hand. Daryl was sure that Merle was headed back to camp, but he had a feeling it wasn't just to find his brother.

"Merle's gonna be takin' some vengeance back ta camp" he spoke out loud.

They had no choice. They were walking.

It would be a long trip, but at least they had enough weapons and ammo. Daryl just hoped they made it in time to stop Merle from killing anyone … besides walkers.

"_Check it out bro … any dude, drivin' a truck that big prolly got a pecker smaller than my Slim Jim" Merle chuckled to Daryl. He was never good at being discrete. Daryl strained his neck around just enough to see a short, stocky man fall out of his larger-than-life truck, a couple of his friends piling out of the back as well._

"… _prolly got one 'o those piece-a-shit Japanese motors in it" Daryl muttered back._

_Reaching for another beer in the cooler between them, he returned his attention to the bonfire. It was a warm autumn night and half the town was out at Brett Snyder's for the yearly event. The Dixons refused to go until after dark, when the kids were all gone and the "grown-ups" got to play. There was a country station blaring on the radio and several different trucks were all backed up to the fire, tailgates down. It was a decent crowd seeing as the weather was unusually warm that night. The smell of grilled hamburgers and stale beer lingered with the smoke from the fire and intertwined with the natural scents of the outdoors. The evening had been relatively peaceful thus far, but Daryl knew there would be a fight sooner or later … it was the same every year. Too many women desperate for Mr. Right, and too many men, just desperate to get laid. _

_But … there was always plenty of food and booze, and the arguments provided some interesting entertainment. Daryl heard a familiar voice in the midst of the cocky laughs._

"_Do you want a beer, Ricky?" Sara's sweet intentions were completely ignored._

"_What the fuck do you think?" the man replied, continuing his conversation with his buddies._

_Daryl glanced back over at Merle, who shook his head and got up to check out his Brett's new motorcycle. Daryl took a swig from his beer and watched as Sara quickly got two beers from the keg and returned to present one to Ricky. Without hesitation, he grabbed both of them and handed one to his buddy, leaving Sara empty-handed. She looked down in defeat and went back to the keg once again. By now, a small line had formed, and she used the opportunity to glance around the party._

_She was wearing some cut-off jean shorts, and a dark red top that hung slightly off of one shoulder. Daryl couldn't help noticing she had make-up on, and that she looked rather beautiful out in the moonlight. He couldn't figure out why she was with whats-his-name. He was a total ass. There were several times that Daryl would stop in to have a drink when she was working, and catch a glimpse of a black eye hear, or a bruise there. No one said anything, but Daryl knew where they came from. He wasn't stupid. It made him mad, but he figured it was none of his business and if she wanted him to do something about it, all she had to do was ask._

_The problem was … she never did. She never spoke to Daryl about her personal life, or anything else for that matter. It was usually just hellos or small talk at the bar about the weather, with the occasional 'hey … remember when' thrown in. Daryl never talked to Merle about his feelings for Sara. Hell, he wasn't even sure he knew what they were in the first place. He couldn't really explain it. He just felt like he had some sort of connection with her. Growing up with shitty parents will do that to you._

_Her eyes met Daryl's and she gave him a small wave and a soft smile. Daryl simply nodded. Suddenly, Sara seemed to freeze up. She glanced back towards Ricky's direction and then back to Daryl, whose eyes hadn't moved and expression hadn't changed. Her eyes quickly lowered to the ground. _

_A few hours passed and everyone was well- intoxicated … or on their way. Merle was perched on the tailgate next to Daryl, handing him a fifth of SoCo. Daryl took a long pull, enjoying the warmth as it slid into his belly._

_Sara made her way over to them. "Hey Daryl. Hey Merle." _

"_Here darlin', let me clear a place for you to sit" Merle slurred, while wiping off his mouth and grinning._

"_Jesus … you're such a perv" Sara spat back at him. Daryl shot his brother an evil glare._

"_Ya think I could get a drink off that bottle? This beer ain't really doing the trick" Sara spoke to Daryl._

"_Sure thing" Daryl muttered as he handed her the SoCo. She took a long swig and grimaced a little. She tried to hand it back, but Daryl shooed her had away._

"_Finish it off … we got another one"_

"_Cool … thanks" as she tipped the bottle back again, Ricky came up and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her backwards, forcing her to drop the bottle on the ground._

"_What the fuck are you doin' talkin' to the Dixons?" _

_Daryl was instantly on his feet, Merle not far behind._

"_Fuck you, ya piece o shit! It takes a real tough guy to beat up his ol' lady!" Daryl screamed at Ricky. He wanted to choke this mother fucker, but he still had a death-grip on Sara's hair, and he could tell she was in pain. _

"_Mind your own business Dixon! Why don't you take yer brother and go back ta Deliverance, ya dumb redneck!"_

_Daryl waiting patiently … waited for just the right moment, when Ricky would let go of Sara. The seconds ticked by and Daryl felt movement from Merle behind him. He knew exactly what was on his brother's mind. _

_Finally, Ricky laughed and his grip loosened just enough. Merle jumped behind Ricky and put him in a chokehold while Daryl lunged forward and caught Sara just before she hit the ground. He set her down gently and her eyes pleaded with him._

_But he'd had enough. He stood up and Merle let Ricky go just before Daryl's right hook collided with his jaw. Daryl sent him another one, this time connecting with his nose, sending blood in every direction. He vaguely remembers a punch landing on his left eye, but Daryl felt no pain. He couldn't see anything but red. He had no idea where Merle was and he was unaware of the fact that three of Ricky's friends had come over to join the brawl._

_He heard screams but couldn't make out what was being said. Daryl just kept swinging, over and over again, until Ricky was on the ground. He kicked him in the stomach until he realized that Ricky wasn't fighting back anymore. _

_He looked up to see Merle had one of the douche-bags on the ground, and another one had a bloody lip. The third man was backing away … fucking coward._

_Then, all at once … the screams came into focus._

"_God dammit Daryl! STOP! Jesus, you're gonna fuckin' kill him!" Sara was begging._

_Confusion took over Daryl's mind. Was she asking him to stop? Didn't he just save her life? _

_Sara was now pushing Daryl backwards, both hands clawing at his chest, like he was some monster._

"_Sara … " he started to ask, but she cut him off._

"_Daryl … just … knock it off!"_

"_What the fuck? He rips yer hair outta yer skull … and I'M the asshole?"_

"_Shut up Daryl" her eyes had turned cold._

"_You just gonna keep letting him do it, huh?" he asked._

"_You know, Daryl … it's none of yer fuckin' business anyways! I'm a big girl, I can handle it!"_

"_Oh, yeah … ya handled it real well back there …"_

"_Fuck you Daryl!"_

"_FINE!" he screamed, "See if I give a shit! Damn stubborn woman!" He turned around and got in his truck. He could see Sara in the side mirror, bent over coddling Ricky on the ground, and he through the truck in gear and peeled out in a cloud of dust. _

The guys had been hauling ass well into the dark of the night. They weren't too far from the quarry, when gunshots rang out in the distance. They all froze, looking to one another for answers. When they heard the next set of shots, they all took off, sprinting towards the campsite, not knowing what they would find.

Daryl was trying to weigh the options. Either the campers were firing on walkers … which could pose a serious threat to their secluded existence, or Merle was firing on someone else. There was only one way to find out.

**** Lyrics from "Pickup Truck" by Kings of Leon**


	6. Chapter 6 LEAVING

**A/N: So … I wasn't completely happy with this chapter, so I did some editing & revising. The same concept, but feel free to re-read. I hope it turned out even better than the last version ;-}**

**We'll do it all  
>Everything<br>On our own**

**We don't need  
>Anything<br>Or anyone**

**If I lay here  
>If I just lay here<br>would you lie with me and just forget the world?**

**I don't quite know  
>How to say<br>How I feel**

**Those three words  
>Are said too much<br>They're not enough**

**If I lay here  
>If I just lay here<br>would you lie with me and just forget the world?**

*********  
>I need your grace<br>To remind me  
>To find my own<strong>

**All that I am  
>All that I ever was<br>Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see**

**I don't know where  
>Confused about how as well<br>Just know that these things will never change for us at all***

Bursting through the bushes, the men came upon a truly frightening sight … a group of geeks had somehow found the campsite and were looking for any flesh they could sink their rotten teeth into! It was pure chaos. Daryl aimed the shotgun and took down two of the bastards in a matter of seconds. Shots and screams melded together and hung heavy in the air over the entire surreal sequence. The women protected the children; the men protected the women; everyone tried to protect themselves. The collective panic of the group cost them a few lives; most likely more if Rick and the others hadn't shown up.

The rest of the dark hours were spent on edge as everyone held on to what little hope they had left. Andrea was bent over her sister's body and refused to move, crying and talking softly to the lifeless shell of what used to be Amy. Carol and Lori herded the children into the RV, which seemed to be the safest place. The men took turns patrolling and cleaning up the corpses of walkers and campers alike.

It wasn't until the initial terror had subsided that Daryl took a brief moment to look around, and that's when he noticed that Merle wasn't there. The shadows of the night made it easy to hide the worry on his face from the others. He busied himself with the tedious work of clearing away bodies and setting up new makeshift security, but the knot in his stomach was growing.

Why in the hell didn't Merle come back for him? It didn't make any sense. If the situation was reversed, Daryl would have made finding his brother his first priority! Once, when they were young, Merle had been forced to leave Daryl hiding in a closet when Beau was particularly wasted one evening. Daryl had no idea how long he waited there, but it seemed like an eternity until Merle finally re-appeared, promising never to leave him behind again. Daryl wondered if somehow, in the midst of all this bullshit, if Merle had changed his mind. After all, they were full-grown men now and either one of them was perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.

In a few short hours, Daryl's emotions traveled an erratic path as he struggled to keep himself together. Anger was his first response, thought he was unaware exactly why. Maybe it had been imbedded in his soul by all the years of torture, or maybe it just came naturally. Eventually his anger fell into sadness as the haunting image of Merle's mangled body rotting somewhere crept into his head. He scolded himself for allowing the 'what ifs' to sneak into his thoughts. He had seen Merle survive some hellacious things in his life … why should this be any different? No, Daryl refused to accept the fact that Merle was dead. He just wouldn't. No one could kill Merle, but Merle.

'That crazy asshole's gonna live to a hundred', he thought to himself.

The morning sun slapped Daryl in the face as he forced himself to reason. Merle needed medical attention; the kind that he couldn't get from anyone here at the quarry. Daryl decided it was only rational that his brother went in search of a larger group of survivors, possibly even the military, who would be better equipped to help him out. So, Daryl continued working silently, burning bodies and clearing away the remnants of a night he'd soon forget.

The members of the camp soon turned their thoughts to Andrea and Amy. They all knew what needed to be done, but Daryl seemed to be the only one with the balls to say it out loud.

"Take the shot, clean to the brain… Hell, I can hit a turkey 'tween the eyes from this distance"

Everyone was obviously appalled at the suggestion, but Daryl was only speaking the truth. Sooner or later Amy would become one of them … and that was just plain unacceptable. No one in the group seemed to understand and they made it obvious that they weren't going to listen to him, so he stomped away in disgust.

He helped Morales drag a few more bodies to the burn pile until Glenn was insistent that the bodies of the campers were to be buried and not burned. Daryl let out a loud huff as he felt the anger bubbling up again. These people … these hypocrites, all wanted to treat the dead with such respect, but what about the living? They were the ones who left his brother to die like some animal, and now they had morals?

"You reap what you sow!" Daryl shouted, getting everyone's attention. "Ya'll left my brother for dead! You had this comin'!" Daryl couldn't stop himself … the words just came out. He knew it wasn't everyone's fault, but the very thought of it still boiled his blood. Daryl knew their feelings would have been different it was anyone else … anyone besides Merle.

The group's circumstances only got worse once Jacqui discovered that Jim had been bit by a walker. He wasn't dead, like Amy, lying in a heap on the dirt. Jim was up and alert, fully functional. Once again Rick and the others were thrown into a heated debate; Daryl versus … pretty much everyone else. His 'zero tolerance for walkers' motto didn't have much effect on the others. Did they not realize that this … disease … or whatever it was, could kill each and every one of them? Daryl wasn't being an asshole … he was surviving. He started to doubt that any of them had what it took to_ truly_ survive.

Daryl suggested that they use the pick-axe on both Jim and Amy, and be done with it. Hoping to shut him up, Shane asked "Is that what you'd want?"

Daryl calmly replied, "Yeah, and I'd thank ya while ya did it" It was Shane who got quiet.

He couldn't understand why anyone would want to be kept alive only to become a walking corpse that fed on flesh. To Daryl, that was way worse than the hell they were living in now. He decided to leave the 'discussion' and get back to the hard labor. It was the only way he could think to get all of the anger and frustration out without getting into another argument with someone.

Since the camp was no longer safe, the decision was made to head for the CDC. Daryl was driving his truck along the quiet stretch of highway, following the rest of the caravan to what they hoped was a safe house under military protection. The stifling Atlanta air that blew through the windows of the old pickup did little to comfort Daryl. The lack of noise only left him to his thoughts … and the image that was burned into his brain. The image of Carol hurling the pick-axe into Ed's skull over and over again, letting out all her anger from the years of abuse …

_There was a loud knock on the door and Daryl lifted his head up from the pillow, with his eyes still closed. He waited silently. Again, another knock, this time louder and more urgent. He grumbled as he noticed the clock on the bedside table read 3:42am. He pushed himself up off the mattress and stumbled to his door, wiping the grogginess from his face._

"_Dammit Merle! … you lose yer spare again?" Daryl threw open the door to see Sara, soaking wet and shivering. He was sleeping so hard that he hadn't even noticed the storm raging outside. He flipped on the light, but it only flashed briefly before the power went out._

_He grabbed Sara by the arm and pulled her inside quietly and glanced down the stairs. Shutting the door, he locked the deadbolt and grabbed a dry towel from the bathroom, giving it to Sara._

_She muttered her thanks and began drying the cold rain from her hair and skin. They sat in silence for a few moments._

"_Daryl … I'm really sorry to come here, it's just … I didn't have anywhere else to go" her voice was weak and raspy._

_She wiped her face in an attempt to wash the tears away before he noticed them. But even in the sliver of moonlight streaming through the window, Daryl could see the puffy black eye. He didn't know what to say. He tried defending her before and she just got angry, so he quit doing it._

"_It's all right" he reached for her, putting his arms around her shoulders and pulling her close to his chest. He felt the violent shivers racking her body and he realized that she had been outside longer than she should have. He found an old camping lantern under the sink & turned it on giving her just enough light to see. He walked her to the bathroom and turned on the hot shower, leaving the lantern on the back of the toilet._

"_Here … jump in and warm up … I'll git ya something dry ta wear"_

_Sara nodded, keeping her head down, "thanks"_

_Daryl instinctively went to his front window and looked down over the parking lot of the auto shop that he lived above. He scoped out the cars on the street, looking for Ricky's red truck. Satisfied that he didn't see anything suspicious, he went to the bedroom and got a clean t-shirt & pair of sweats._

_He heard the water still running and slowly opened the door, setting the clothes on the sink. As he turned to go, he heard the whimpers coming form the shower. Daryl's heart began racing. He was at a complete loss … how many times had he been here before? Sara always reaching to him for rescue but then going right back to the same old shit._

_It didn't matter. Daryl's heart wouldn't allow him to let go of her and he didn't know why. He sat down on the toilet seat, "Sara?" The whimpers stopped. "Sara … you ok?"_

_She tried to compose herself, "Yeah … I think so" The water turned off and Daryl stood up holding out another dry towel for her. She peaked around the curtain and their eyes met. Daryl could see the pain still coursing through them. He looked away and returned to the living room rubbing the sleep from his face. After a few minutes, the door opened again and Sara came out. _

_The lightning flashed outside followed by a loud rumble of thunder and Sara jumped. Daryl walked slowly towards her and she backed away shyly. Another flash of lighting lit up the room just enough for Daryl to see the faint shape of hand marks around her neck and he couldn't hold himself back._

"_Jesus Christ Sara! When are you gonna git away from that fuckin' asshole?" He screamed at her._

_She didn't respond._

_Daryl walked over and punched the bathroom door as hard as he could, leaving a hole clean through it._

_Sara started crying again, as Daryl paced back and forth not knowing whether he wanted to shake some sense into her or kiss her … he opted for the latter._

_In one swift movement he was in front of her, holding her head in his hands. His heavy breathing only made her body shake with more tears. He leaned down and kissed her lips so gently that she stopped crying and opened her eyes. He pulled away from her, not sure of what she would do next. They stood in silence looking at each other._

_Daryl began to think that he made a mistake, when another loud crash of thunder shook the room, and she was instantly in his arms again. She crushed her mouth to his and Daryl's pulse went haywire, his hands shaking from the overwhelming feelings he had pushed back for so long._

_He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, laying her down gently on the bed. The next few hours were filled with a passion that Daryl had never known before. He had had plenty of girls, but no one ever shook his soul like Sara had. They made magic in that room, giving up themselves to one another and for a short time, they were able to shut out the world and forget every last problem they had. Daryl feel asleep with Sara wrapped in his arms and her head on his chest listening to the sound of his heartbeat._

_That was the last time he saw her._

_Morning came and Daryl rolled over to a cold bed. He got up and looked around, but Sara was nowhere to be found. His heart sank as he sat on the sofa and briefly wondered if the night before had been nothing more than a dream. He noticed a piece of paper stuck in the front door, and his hand shook as he pulled it out to read:_

Daryl,

I'm going to stay with my friend Kim and her husband near Ft. Benning. He is in the army, and Kim tells me I will be safe there. I'm sorry it has to be this way. Thank you for everything, Sara

_Daryl collapsed on the floor in front of the door as dizziness came over him and his blood ran cold. He was finally able to let her in, and she took his heart and ran. He didn't regret any minute of their time together, and he hoped that she didn't either. There was a small part of him that felt relieved knowing that Sara was away from Ricky. Hell, he wasn't even sure what kind of man he could be to her anyway. He convinced himself that it was probably for the best; at least she wouldn't have any more bruises. He crawled back in bed and embraced the scent of her hair that still lingered on his pillow. He laid there for a long time, just starring at the ceiling until finally he made a promise to himself … one day he would find her again, whatever it took._

The RV's brake lights suddenly kicked on. Following suit, Daryl pulled the truck over. They all got out of their vehicles to discover that the RV was badly in need of a fan belt. Shane and T-dog went on ahead to see if they could find anything worth using, while the rest of them were stuck to wait it out.

Daryl walked along both sides of the road searching for any signs of the undead, and thankfully found none. He kept to himself, not wanting to admit to anyone how badly he needed to get to the CDC. Despite the feeling in his gut telling him to go to Ft. Benning, he knew they didn't have enough gas to get there, and he knew the CDC was the better option. He prayed with all his might that they still had some form of communication, and that somehow he could find out if _they_ were still alive.

***Lyrics to "****Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol  
><strong> 


	7. Chapter 7 HOPE

**A/N: Just in case my wonderful readers weren't aware … I revised the previous chapter. Maybe it was just me, but the more I read it, the more I felt it needed a little extra uumph, or something :D So, if you'd like, feel free to go back and read Chapter 6 again. It's the same basic concept so if you choose not to, you won't miss anything. Thanks again to those of you that have reviewed (here OR on Twitter) because it actually melts my heart a little every time!**

**I know your life is empty  
>And you hate to face this world alone<br>So you're searching for an angel  
>Someone who can make you whole<br>I can not save you  
>I can't even save myself<br>So just save yourself**

**I know that you've been damaged  
>Your soul has suffered such abuse<br>But I am not your savior  
>I am just as fucked as you<strong>

**I can not save you  
>I can't even save myself<br>So just save yourself**

**Please don't take pity on me**

**My life has been a nightmare  
>My soul is fractured to the bone<br>And if I must be lonely, I think I'd rather be alone  
>I think I'd rather be alone<strong>

**You can not save me  
>You can't even save yourself<br>I can not save you  
>I can't even save myself<br>Save yourself  
>So just save yourself*<strong>

Just about the time that Shane and T-Dog came back sporting a "new" fan belt for the RV, Jacqui stepped out, obviously upset about something.

"It's Jim … he doesn't look so good" she pleaded. The fear on her face was enough to convince everyone that Jim's time was coming to an end. Rick went into the camper to talk to him, while the others waited outside. They all knew what was coming, even Daryl. He stood up and made himself busy scouting once again for any signs of geeks. He had a feeling that when the time came, he would be the one they asked to finish off Jim. He chuckled at the irony of the whole situation.

Much to everyone's surprise, Rick broke the news that Jim had asked to be left behind. Daryl couldn't believe what he was hearing, but he was thankful that Jim had the decency not to risk everyone else's lives. There would be no happy outcome if Jim turned while they were still on the road.

Rick and Shane helped Jim out of the car and into a comfortable spot in the shade of a gigantic tree about thirty feet from the side of the road. One by one, the men and women said their goodbyes to Jim. Rick left a small handgun with a single bullet in the shaky hands of the once strong and solid man.

Daryl waited until the others were headed to their vehicles to approach Jim. He wasn't sure what to say. He knew it was the only way everyone could make it safely to the CDC, but he was having a hard time understanding Jim's decision. Ultimately, though, that's exactly what it was; _Jim's_ decision. Afraid of saying the wrong thing, Daryl just held Jim's eyes for a brief moment. The gaze the two men shared said all they needed to say without making a sound, and Daryl was relieved to have made peace with the man, even if it was only for his last few minutes on Earth. He gave Jim a small nod and headed back to his truck.

As Daryl started the engine up and pulled onto the highway, he thought about Jim. He thought about how peaceful he had looked as the last people he knew drove off into the sunset, leaving him with nothing more than a head full of memories and a loaded gun. He prayed to whatever God there still was that Merle wasn't doing the same thing somewhere, all alone.

Jim was at peace. It didn't matter what was going to happen to him. Daryl knew that he had finally accepted his death, in one way or another. Merle, on the other hand, was probably doing the exact opposite, cursing everyone he knew and fighting for a chance to come back and kick somebody's ass.

The whir of the engine was the only sound Daryl could hear as the caravan carefully weaved through abandoned cars that had clogged up the most of the major roads. The sun was starting to set and they were all running low on gas. Daryl tried to ignore his impatience, but the eerie quiet that had settled over the countryside, left him as edgy as ever.

"_Dixon! You got mail" Daryl felt Rob kick his foot from underneath the old Cadillac he was working on. He slid the creeper out and sat up as Rob handed him a small white envelope. _

"_What … you got a secret admirer I should know about?" Rob teased._

"_Yeah, your sister" Daryl scoffed back._

"_Whatever Dixon … just hurry the hell up on that Caddy would ya? I don't want this lady up my ass again" Rob walked back into the office, leaving Daryl alone to stare at the letter. _

_He noticed the return address: _Sara Brown, 707 West Carpenter Street, Ft. Benning GA

_His pulse quickened as his nerves suddenly kicked in causing his hands to tremble. It had been almost two months since the night Sara spent at his house, and he thought about her every day. He wondered if she had met someone and started a new life for herself. He wondered if she had a job at the local grocery store or tavern. But mostly, he wondered if she ever thought about him._

_Daryl wasn't sure he was ready to read the letter just yet, so he stuffed it into the pocket of his pants, and finished the work he had begun on the white heap of a car taking up space in Rob's garage. _

_After work, Daryl stopped for a beer (or twelve), subconsciously avoiding the contents of his pockets until he was good and liquored up. He wasn't sure why, but he felt whatever was in that letter would somehow be easier to deal with intoxicated.__e wasn't sure whyHe_

_By the time he stumbled into his apartment several hours later Daryl was officially three sheets to the wind. He took a seat at his kitchen table, and sat gazing at the unopened envelope, gently caressing the return address as if magically Sara could feel the tenderness of his touch. Chugging a healthy swig from the bottle of SoCo, Daryl took a deep breath. His fingers were gentle as they carefully tore away the envelope, revealing a small piece of light blue stationary. His eyes fought against the blur of his whiskey buzz._

Daryl,

How are you doing? I am writing to you because I can hardly look at myself in the mirror after leaving you that night. I am so sorry! I just couldn't stand the thought of being in that town anymore! Everywhere I go, something reminded me of _him_, and I just needed to get away. I know you have always been there for me in the past, and I never expressed how grateful I really was. I hope it's not too late. I probably don't deserve anything from you after the way I treated you, and for that I am truly sorry.

Kim and her husband have been gracious enough to take me in until I can get back on my feet. I have been a little sick lately, but luckily I have a job interview tomorrow so I hope to be working very soon. I'm not very good at this sort of thing, but I pray every night that you are kept safe and that one day you will be able to forgive me. I have written my phone number on the bottom of the page … in case you feel like talking.

All my love,

Sara

_Daryl read the letter three times before he putting it down on the table. Silently, he sat as the ache in his heart grew stronger and stronger. He desperately wanted to pick up the phone and call, if for no other reason than to hear her sweet voice. But what would he say to her? Daryl had never been so good with words; expressing himself was about as painful as pulling teeth. He'd always found that actions spoke louder than words. His night with Sara was a prime example. _

_Did she expect him to visit her? He knew she couldn't come back here, and he didn't know if he could just up and leave Merle behind. Daryl wasn't sure what exactly Sara wanted from him; a relationship, a friendship, or just forgiveness. _

_He thought for a minute that it must have been the booze asking all these questions, and his head started to spin as the whole situation seemed to get disturbingly complicated. At least she was somewhere that Ricky couldn't hurt her anymore, and that's what was important. _

_Daryl carefully tore off the return address from the envelope and put it in the back of his wallet, before tossing the envelope in the trash. He fell asleep on the sofa, his hand clutching the blue paper over his heart. _

_The incessant pounding in his head, was the reason he woke up … followed by Merle's less-than-discreet entrance._

"_Git ur ass up bro! The fish are gonna be bitin' today. C'mon we're wasting time" Merle hollered as he opened the front door with the spare Daryl had given him._

_Daryl sat up on the couch and rubbed his eyes. Jesus, why did Merle always have to be so loud in the morning?_

_Merle headed for the bathroom, choosing not to close the door while he emptied his bladder. "Guess who I ran into this mornin'?" he was oblivious to the fact that Daryl could hardly hear over the sound of Niagara Falls. _

_Daryl didn't answer._

_The toilet flushed and Merle came out grinning like an idiot. "That Ricky bastard you beat the shit outta. Seems he's been lookin' fer his missing girlfriend … but you wouldn't know anything 'bout that, would ya?"_

_Daryl's heart skipped a beat, as his slid the letter into his pocket. ".. the fuck makes you think I know where she is?" he snapped._

"_Easy bro … I know you had a thing for her. 'Sides, even if you knew, I wouldn't tell that prick a goddamned thing"_

_Daryl wanted to tell Merle what had happened … the night she came over, the letter, everything. But he just couldn't. The Dixons just didn't talk about that kind of shit, that's all._

_Catching on to Daryl's silence, Merle teased him "Aw shit! You DO know where she is! You sly dog, you" a shit-eating grin crept onto his face._

"_Merle, shut the fuck up" Daryl clamored off the couch and headed towards his bedroom. "Go load the truck, I'll be down in a minute" _

"_Suit yerself" Merle mumbled and headed down the stairs._

_When he heard the squeak of the truck door, Daryl pulled out the letter and tucked it safely into his drawer. He was actually looking forward to fishing with his brother … it would give him plenty of time to think._

The RV crept slowly along the stretch of road that led to the CDC. The other vehicles followed with Daryl bringing up the rear. He was relieved to finally get there, but the scene in front of him was not a happy one. There were bodies everywhere baking in the Atlanta heat, their stench hanging over the ground in an invisible fog. Cautiously the group headed for the doors of the gigantic building, stepping over the corpses and gagging from the awful smell. Daryl followed them, the whole time keeping his crossbow poised and ready should he spot any walkers headed their way.

The rotting cadavers and the abandoned military vehicles scattered everywhere, started to churn an uneasy feeling in Daryl's stomach. Taking a closer look, he noticed that some of the bodies didn't seem to be infected, and he wondered why in the hell they were shot. Maybe the military wanted total containment. Maybe the people turned on each other, in their darkest hour, afraid of what was happening. Or maybe they shot themselves, refusing to live in a world full of the undead. Either way, Daryl was glad he hadn't been there when the shit hit the fan.

Rick approached the heavy metal security door only to find that it was locked. The tension skyrocketed as Daryl spotted a few walkers on their trail. He took down as many as he could with his crossbow, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise, but there were still more coming. The group began to panic as Rick and Shane continued to bang on the door in hopes of being heard by anyone inside.

Daryl reached down to discover he had only one lone arrow in his pack. "Last arrow!" he shouted, signaling that it was time to make a decision. Stay and fight off the growing herd of flesh-eaters, or head back to the vehicles and get the fuck out of there.

The children screamed, the women pleaded with Rick to head back to the safety of the cars, and everyone readied whatever weapon they had. Just as they made a break for it Rick yelled, "The camera! It moved!"

Dale told him he must have imagined it, but Rick was adamant that someone was inside, watching them. He screamed at the camera, not caring at that point about anything but getting his family inside to safety.

Daryl pulled out his shotgun and fired it several times, dropping walkers left and right. He realized then, that the situation was much worse than any of them had anticipated. His thoughts drifted to Sara, but he forced himself back to reality, knowing that daydreaming would do nothing but get him killed.

Just when Shane was about to drag Rick away from the doors, a loud click echoed in the fading sunlight. The door rolled open and an intense light hit the terrified faces of the entourage. Daryl herded them into the building, getting a few more kills in before the door slammed shut behind him.

He was met with a breath of fresh, cool air as he stepped inside the building, something he almost couldn't remember. He slowed his breathing, trying to calm his nerves, and came face to face with a man holding a very large automatic weapon in his hand.

This was not good …

***Lyrics to "Save Yourself" by Stabbing Westward**

(Side Note: Their first CD entitled "Whither, Blister, Burn, and Peel" is absolutely fantastic! It's from the 90s so it's full of grunge-y, angst-y, 'metal w/ a touch of industrial' goodness with amazing lyrics to boot. I highly recommend it … if you're into that sort of thing!)


	8. Chapter 8 TRUTH

The man holding the large weapon introduced himself as Dr. Jenner, and demanded that everyone submit to a blood test as the "price of admission". Daryl was instantly creeped out by the guy. But, for now, they were safe from the hellish reality of their post-apocalyptic nightmare. Everyone followed Jenner into the elevator, when Daryl opened his mouth.

"Doctors always go 'round packin' heat like that?" He couldn't help but wonder why the doctor needed a weapon, and a large one at that, here in the safety of the CDC.

"No. There were plenty left lying around, so I familiarized myself. It made sense."

'What the hell kinda answer is that?' Daryl mumbled to himself. His gut was telling him the doctor may have been a few fries short of a happy meal. Reluctantly, Daryl followed the group into the laboratory, silently adding Jenner to the list of people he didn't trust.

As they each waited their turn to be prodded by the lab-coat, Daryl stood against the back wall observing the group of people he had come to know over the past few months. They all looked utterly exhausted and on the brink of starvation. Some of them had lost family members, and some had none to lose. Some people had flourished in the makeshift camp at the quarry, while others just couldn't get the hang of living without luxuries like electricity or their cell phones. All in all, these were good people. Sure Shane was an arrogant prick but hell, so was Merle.

The word lingered on Daryl's tongue … Merle …

"Hello … What? Are you scared of needles?" Jenner was waving at Daryl signaling his turn to be tested.

Daryl sat down in front of him, crossbow in hand. "I ain't afraid of needles anymore then yer afraid of arrows" he spat, tapping the trigger to the crossbow lightly with his right index finger.

Jenner shifted uneasily and quietly proceeded to take a blood sample from Daryl's unoccupied arm. Satisfied that he had left an impression on the doc, Daryl got up and made room for Andrea who was up next. The silence in the room made her gentle stomach growl seem overly loud, and Jenner looked up at her, confused.

"When was the last time you ate anything?"

Oblivious to the question, Andrea let Jacqui speak for her "It's been a few days".

The next thing Daryl knew, he was shoveling food in his mouth without even taking the time to care what he was eating. All he knew, was that it was hot and filling … and it wasn't squirrel. It was the only meal he'd eaten in a month that didn't leave his stomach still rumbling. He stopped for a brief moment, wishing that Merle could have been there to enjoy the food, as well as the bottle of whiskey that Daryl had claimed for the evening.

As the guests enjoyed their newfound haven, the drinks flowed and the laughter spilled from just about everyone. Everyone except Shane, that is. He started badgering Jenner with questions and even though it thoroughly perturbed Glenn, Daryl was glad that someone had finally brought it up. He was anxious to find out anything about communications with Fort Benning, or whatever military outposts still existed … if any. Daryl would just as soon die before admitting that he agreed with Shane, but the thoughts going through his head on a daily basis wouldn't let him forget his real purpose.

He sat quietly in the corner while Dr. Jenner explained the events that led to the worldwide catastrophe, and why he was the only one left at the CDC. With each word Jenner spoke, Daryl felt a little piece of his heart break away. His hope that there was a place out there safe from the perils of the undead, was slowly diminishing. He continued to drink from the bottle of SoCo until the booze clouded the voices in his head.

Jenner's little speech had left everyone in dire spirits, until the mention of taking a hot shower managed to perk everyone up a bit. Daryl tore off his sticky clothes and stood under the hot stream of water, still clutching the half-empty bottle. The shower felt wonderful, but all the soap in the world couldn't wash away the loneliness and regret in his heart. All this time, he had hoped the more survivors they found, the better the chances he had of finding Sara, but each and every day that passed left Daryl feeling torn farther away from her … farther away from _them_.

_The old tow truck rambled along down the highway as Daryl flipped back and forth between the country station and the classic rock station, the only two that came in clearly. He silently cursed Rob for being such a cheapskate. At least he didn't have to listen to the old man anymore. Mr. Gideon. That was his name. His black Mercedes had broken down just outside of town, and Rob bestowed Daryl the duty of towing it all the way back to Montgomery Alabama. The drive would have been a lot more pleasant if the man didn't insist on griping about his car the entire way there. Daryl wanted to tell him he deserved it for buying a foreign piece of shit … but he held his tongue, knowing there would probably be a nice bonus in store for driving so far. _

_Daryl pulled off the interstate in search of a much-needed pit stop and anything to fill the void in his stomach. He spotted a sign for gas and food in Opileka, so he filled the tow truck up and grabbed a burger, feeling much better afterwards. As he pulled out and came to a stop sign, his pulse quickened. He focused on the sign ahead; _Fort Benning Army Base 40 miles ~ KEEP RIGHT.

_He gazed at the sign, frozen. His hands trembled slightly as he thought of the note he kept in his drawer. It had been a few months since he first put it there. He hadn't contacted Sara at all, being too busy with Merle, who had decided to get kicked out of his own place and had taken up residence with his brother. _

_Daryl wanted to see her, but was too afraid, although that admission would never see the light of day. He hadn't spoken a word to Merle about any of it. Still, he thought of her often and wondered if her offer still stood._

_BEEP! BEEP! A loud horn signaled that he had been sitting at the stop sign long enough. After politely giving the driver a death-glare in the rearview mirror, Daryl pulled back onto the highway and took the first exit. He wasn't sure why … but something in his gut told him he needed to go. Rob wasn't expecting him back for a few hours anyway and he doubted he would be missed at the shop._

_The next 40 miles were a rollercoaster of emotions for Daryl; all the memories flooding back like a dam had been broken. The only sounds in the truck were the crackle of the CB every few minutes and Daryl's heartbeat, jumping erratically. _

_He noticed several signs announcing the restricted roads ahead, but thought it odd that the town seemed to be empty, like a ghost town. He navigated his way through the streets fairly easily ending up at Carpenter Street. He pulled over, clutching the worn piece of envelope that he kept in his wallet. He read it again: _707 West Carpenter Street_. He spotted the small white house and saw a tiny blue car and an SUV parked in the driveway. He got out of the tow truck and looked up and down the street. He saw nothing, no children playing, no lawn mowers going … nothing. _

_An eerie sense of urgency consumed him, and he reached for his hunting knife, tucking it in the back of his pants, and making sure his shirt covered it well. He approached the front door and reached up to knock, having to steady his hands first. His heart was in his throat, but he couldn't ignore the feeling that something wasn't right. _

"_Excuse me! Who are you?"_

_Daryl turned to see a tiny old lady on the porch next door, nonchalantly holding a shotgun. Holy shit. He decided that he'd better be polite or his knife wouldn't do him much good._

"_I'm looking for Sara" He muttered._

_She stared intently into his eyes, and slowly leaned over her porch. "Oh! The little dark-haired one? Well … I'm afraid she ain't home."_

"_You know where she's at?" Daryl slowly took a few steps toward the neighbor._

"_Sure do … she's at the base with the couple she lives here with … some kind of evacuation drill … or something"_

"_How come you ain't gone, then?" Daryl asked._

"_Hell, child … I'm too old to be running away. I'm staying right here, and nobody can make me go!" she said matter-of-factly._

_Daryl turned again to look at the door he just knocked on, then back to the old lady. "How long you think she'll be gone?"_

"_Well, its hard tellin' … sometimes it's a day, sometimes it's a week. They only left this morning. I tell ya … they shouldn'ta been draggin that poor girl around, not in her condition … poor thing!"_

_Daryl's head started to spin … "Whataya mean 'condition'?" He held his breath._

"_Well she's pregnant, of course … 'bout 5 or 6 months along I guess. Poor thing's had an awful time … been in and outta the hospital and everything … What's wrong sugar? You don't look so good" the little lady hobbled off the porch and headed over to Daryl, whose face had turned as white as the clouds._

_He sat down on the steps, completely stunned. He knew deep in his heart … that was his child. He didn't know how … he just knew. His instincts had always been right, and this was no exception. His chest felt like it was in a vice being crushed by some gangster from a bad movie. He vaguely remembered the words from her letter; _I've been a little sick lately …

_The little lady sat down beside him and patted him gently on the back, "Don't you worry … I'm sure she's safe as can be. They don't let anyone near that base I tell ya … and they have the best medical care you find there too!"_

_Daryl just nodded silently … until he heard something, or someone sputter from the CB._

"_DIXON! Where the hell you at? … Dammit Daryl, pick up the radio!"_

_Daryl sprinted to answer the call. "What?" he screamed unintentionally._

"_Dixon, yer brother's here … says it's an emergency" steady static followed, along with a few loud thumps. Daryl squirmed away from the noise "what tha hell …" he whispered._

_At last Merle's voice thundered over the radio,"Bro! You better git yer ass back here ... something funny's goin' on 'round here and it don't look pretty!"_

"_What the hell you talkin' bout Merle … and whataya mean by 'funny'?" Daryl was seriously annoyed at the ill-timed interruption._

"_We got military vehicles going every which way … armed to tha teeth! People been talkin' bout some kinda evacuation … no one seems ta know their head from their ass though … so I suggest you git back here pronto"_

_What the hell was going on? Daryl's nerves started to fray … first Sara, and now this- Jesus Christ, when it rains it pours! From the panic in his brother's voice, Daryl knew it was serious, whatever IT was. He rubbed his forehead, in a futile attempt to process everything that had happened in the last hour. _

"_All right … I'm heading back now. Prolly gonna take me a couple hours." Daryl paused, not really sure what to do next. "Wait for me at the shop"_

_As he hung up the CB, he turned to find the little lady standing right behind him, "Must be worse than I thought" she mumbled sheepishly. She reached up and grabbed Daryl's hand. "I meant what I said though … she'll be just fine at the base. Now you better go take care of yer family. I think I need to go get some more supplies"_

_She gave Daryl an endearing smile and hobbled back towards her house, dragging the shotgun behind her._

"_Lady …" Daryl shouted, "You gonna be ok?" _

"_Oh yes! My husband taught me ta take care of myself … don't you worry 'bout me" _

"_Well, thanks … you know, fer tha information" _

_She just waved her hand, without turning around and disappeared through her front door._

_Thinking quickly, Daryl grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a note to Sara, telling her to stay here, where she was safe and that he would come back and find her. He doubted she would ever see the note, but he tucked in the screen door anyway, and climbed into the tow truck to head home. Daryl needed to find out what fuck was going on … and fast._

The water temperature had begun to fade, and Daryl looked down to see his skin flushed to a bright pink. He turned off the shower, putting on clean clothes and heading back to the small room he claimed in the basement of the CDC. He sat, finishing off the last of the whiskey, letting the caramel liquid calm his edgy nerves and relax his body. He hoped that a decent night's sleep would help him decide whether or not it was time to leave the group, and he drifted off, one hand hanging over the side of the couch … the other over his heart.


	9. Chapter 9 RUN

A/N: Special thanks to all of my readers and reviewers! I still have a hard time believing that people actually enjoy reading something that I wrote ;-} You guys all rock.

**Pick me up  
>Been bleeding too long<br>Right here, right now  
>I'll stop it somehow<strong>

**I will make it go away  
>Can't be here no more<br>Seems this is the only way  
>I will soon be gone<br>These feelings will be gone  
>These feelings will be gone<strong>

**Now I see the times they change  
>Leaving doesn't seem so strange<br>I am hoping I can find  
>Where to leave my hurt behind<br>All the shit I seem to take  
>All alone I seem to break<br>I have lived the best I can  
>Does this make me not a man?*<strong>

Daryl awoke to the muffled sounds of the others shuffling through the hallway. His head was pounding something fierce, but it certainly wasn't the first time in his life he had been hungover. He got up slowly, stretching his muscles and listening to the creaks and pops of his tired bones. He had slept better than he cared to remember, the air-conditioning blowing steadily on his face, and the comfort of actual cushions cradling him like a child. He pulled on clean clothes and headed out to find Jenner. Daryl needed to have a few words with him … away from the others.

He wandered through the halls, avoiding the others who were headed to breakfast, just in case they asked too many questions. At the very end of the building, Daryl spotted a dark staircase and followed it up to the main level. Most of the lights were off, except a faint light coming from what Daryl assumed to be Jenner's office. He crept down the hallway out of pure instinct and approached the door cautiously. Peeking his head around the doorframe, he found the place empty.

"Doc … you in here?"

No answer. Daryl headed inside to see a large desk in the center of the room, with papers stacked on the floor in various piles. He wandered over to the bookshelves and filing cabinets, searching for anything that might help him. The problem, however, was that he didn't know exactly what would help him at this point.

"What are you doing? You're not allowed in here!" Jenner popped into the room hastily.

Daryl turned around nonchalantly "I got some questions".

Jenner seemed almost appalled at the invasion of privacy, not that Daryl gave a shit. He repeated his earlier statement, "I said … you can't be in here … now please leave"

"Or what? You gonna call security?" Daryl was now nose-to-nose with the Jenner, clenching his teeth and giving him the ultimate Dixon-glare. Daryl saw the fear in Jenner's eyes as he backed away slowly and sat in his chair.

He looked down at his desk, fidgeting with the lock on the drawer. "I don't have any answers … at least not the ones you want to hear"

Daryl was amazed at how someone could constantly talk in riddles. For fuck's sake, no one ever knew what he was babbling about! Daryl crossed his arms and leaned over the desk.

"What can ya tell me 'bout Fort Benning?"

"What _can_ I tell you? The last I knew, they had a camp set up but were keeping it low-key … you know, military personnel and government officials only. Somehow, they got a warning before the rest of the world did, though I haven't figured out why or how." Jenner paused, taking a drink of his coffee. "That's all I know"

Daryl stood up straight, "So … there might still be people there?"

He looked at Daryl for a long moment … then exhaled slowly, " Look … Daryl … I can't say anything for sure. But look what happened here? What do you think the odds are, that the place is even still standing?"

Daryl found himself clenching his fists, ready to beat the living shit out of Jenner. Was it his goal in life to make everyone miserable? Daryl stomped around the side of the desk, and grabbed the doctor's shirt, pulling him out of his chair and in close.

"Listen here, Doc … I don't really give a shit what yer problem is, but I need ta get ta Fort Benning. So … yer gonna help me out and tell me where I can find some maps … got it?"

Jenner tried to act like he wasn't scared, but Daryl knew better. He let go of the man's shirt and sat on the desk waiting for an answer.

As Jenner spoke, something in his eyes seemed far off, in another world. "Try the second office down the hall. Any maps we had would be in there"

Daryl spent the next half-hour digging through drawers and shelves, until he was able to locate a few maps; a recent map of Atlanta, a small map of Fort Benning and the surrounding areas, and a map showing the US military bases … although that one was quite tattered and Daryl guessed it was fairly old. He folded them up carefully and placed them into a clean garbage bag, folding that up neatly as well. He went back to his room, putting the maps in his duffel bag. He sat down on the couch, his head swarming with 'what ifs'. He still had no idea how he was going to make it to Fort Benning, but the time had come and he was more determined than ever.

Daryl knew it would be a hard journey and decided that he'd better take advantage of the food supplies at the CDC, as long as he could. He headed to the cafeteria where everyone, except poor Glenn, was enjoying a quiet breakfast. Halfway through his rather large plate of food, Jenner came waltzing in, avoiding eye contact with Daryl. Dale and Andrea starting the early-morning round of twenty questions, and Jenner led everyone into the main workstation to show them what exactly he had been working on for the past few months.

Out of curiosity, Daryl followed the group. The doctor pulled up an image of a person on the big screen and began to explain something about the synapses of the brain and what happened when a person got bit by a walker. None of it made a whole lot of sense to Daryl. Even if they found a cure, the people that were gone, were gone and there was no bringing them back. Daryl couldn't understand why they needed to focus on the dead, and not the living.

Jenner's words were meaningless to Daryl. It wasn't until Andrea spoke up that Daryl started paying closer attention.

"It's not just here, is it? … its everywhere?" her question was more like a statement.

Daryl perked his head up, waiting for the answer.

"I lost contact with all other zones over a month ago. All over the world. They just stopped reporting in"

Jenner's response put a kung-fu grip on Daryl's chest, as the words sunk in. Of course, he couldn't have mentioned that part earlier this morning … fucking prick.

"I'm gonna git shit-faced drunk … again!" Daryl hadn't really meant to say that out loud. Thank god no one noticed the sweat starting to form on his brow.

Just then, Dale spoke up, "I hate to ask one more question … but that clock is counting down. What happens when it reaches zero?"

Daryl froze. A timer counting down was _never_ an indication of anything good, as far as he was concerned, and the look in Jenner's eyes was not reassuring.

Walking away quickly, Jenner spit over his shoulder, " … the generators in the basement run out of fuel" and just like that, he vanished.

Panic struck the group. Rick, Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog headed to the basement to check out the situation with the generators, while the rest headed back to their respective rooms to pack up in case a quick departure was in order. Daryl closed the door to his room and he began to pace. A whole month … a whole month had gone by with no communication? What did that mean? Was there any way Sara could have survived … with the baby? Dammit! If only Merle was here, maybe he'd know what to do …

"_What in the name of Jesus is THAT?" Merle hollered. Daryl peeked out the front window over his brother's shoulder. In the street below, a walker was slowly sauntering in circles, dripping blood and some other bodily fluids all over the parking lot._

"_Holy shit … that's fuckin' Rob" Daryl rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. He hurried to pack all of their camping and fishing gear, in a rush to beat the last hours of sunlight since the power had been out for the past 24 hours. The town had been under martial law for three days, and the sheriff's department had set up a shelter at the local high school. The Dixons had gone to the school late one night to sneak a peek at the camp, but decided there was no way in hell they were staying locked up with the local law enforcement as their only protection. _

_Merle had taken charge and hauled Daryl to the grocery store to stock up on supplies, and then to the hunting store to stock up on ammo. At first Daryl thought Merle was just being crazy … but after seeing a dozen of those _things_ wandering around town, he started to trust his big brother's instincts._

_Their plan, if that's what you could call it, was to hang out in the woods for a few days and keep an eye on things in town. Then, if things got really bad, maybe heading towards the nearest big city … which happened to be Atlanta. Neither one of them would have guessed that this would be the last time they ever set foot in their hometown._

"_You ready yet?" Merle asked, still peering out the front window at the army tank rolling down the street. "We got company little bro. We need ta git the fuck outta here 'fore the damn government starts knockin' down our door!"_

_Daryl whistled and Merle turned to catch his backpack as it was hurling his way. Their eyes met, and Daryl gave his brother a slight nod as they headed down the steps into the garage, weapons drawn. _

_The parking lot was quiet, except for the shuffle of Rob's feet as he caught the scent of clean flesh and hobbled towards Daryl. The darkness had now taken over and the only light shining anywhere was the faint shimmer of the moon. Daryl raised the crossbow and aimed right between the eyes of the monster in front of him. He waited until he could clearly see the rotting eyes of his boss. He felt like an asshole for having to be the one to do it … but Daryl knew it needed to be done. He squeezed the trigger lightly and watched as Rob fell face forward onto the pavement._

"_Sorry buddy" Daryl whispered to himself._

_He threw the rest of the gear into the bed of the pickup truck and opened the passenger side door, setting his crossbow on the seat just as Merle fired up his motorcycle. Daryl walked around to the driver's side door and started to pull it open when something grabbed his leg. He lost his balance and fell backwards, slamming his head on the ground. He looked down towards his feet to see a bloody set of arms gripping his legs, trying to pull him under the truck! He kicked and kicked but the bastard had a death-grip on his jeans. He screamed for Merle, but the rumble of the motorcycle drowned out any sound he could make. For a moment, Daryl was truly horrified. He reached all around him, trying to find anything he could use as a weapon, but his effort was futile … there was nothing but solid ground. He drew back his fist, ready to punch the geek with everything he had, when suddenly … something grabbed his arm. He looked up to see Merle standing over him with a shotgun. In one swift movement, he pulled Daryl backwards, and fired at the monster, blowing his head clean off. The hands were still clinging to Daryl's legs, but Merle pried them off with his boot and pulled his brother to safety._

_Daryl sent an appreciative glance at Merle, and the two of them stood in silence, catching their breath, and staring in horror at the remains of a man they both knew. That's when Daryl realized just how shitty the situation had become. He knew that sticking with his brother was the only thing that mattered. As long as they had each other, they would conquer whatever came their way._

Daryl's heart was pumping the blood through his veins at record speed. He began cleaning his weapons, and taking a mental inventory of what ammo he had left. He reached for the whiskey bottle that Glenn had been unable to finish last night and had stashed in Daryl's room this morning. Alternating between packing and drinking, Daryl managed to put everything he owned, besides his pickup, into one large bag and calm his nerves … just a little. Suddenly, the lights flickered and went out at the exact moment Daryl realized the cold air was no longer blowing from the vent. He heard the others moving in the hallway and leaned out just in time for Jenner to swipe his bottle. They made their way to the main room once again, just as Rick was returning from the basement. The next few minutes was a blur of questions and arguements … something to do with Zone 5 shutting down and going into automatic decontamination. Daryl didn't know exactly what "decontamination" meant, but he didn't like the sound of it.

Just when everyone decided it was time to leave, Jenner stirred up even more tension by locking them all in, saying it was better for them to die this way than live a life on the run. Daryl and Shane began pounding on the heavy metal door with axes. Rick and Lori pleaded with Jenner. Carol began to sob. Everything was going downhill fast and no one seemed to have a clue how they were going to get out of this.

Daryl's face was red with anger. He was NOT going to let this man, or anyone else for that matter, keep him from finding Sara and the baby! This was not how he would die! He went after Jenner with the axe in a rage fueled by hate. T-Dog and Dale were able to stop him, only by reminding him that if Jenner died, none of them would get out.

The clock was still ticking downward as Rick and Lori continued to plead with the doctor. They begged him for a chance to live, or at least to continue trying as long as they could. With only a few minutes remaining, something Rick said made Jenner give in. Daryl didn't know and he didn't care … he just raced to his room to grab his bag and weapons.

After using a grenade to bust through the windows on the main level, the group was once again forced to run for their lives. Walkers were straggling in from every direction, and Daryl ran full speed, killing everything in his path. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he took his aggression out on some nameless zombie; beheading him with two axes at once.

He made it to the truck just in time to see Dale and Andrea stumble out of the building and take cover as the entire structure collapsed in a giant explosion. For a moment, Daryl just sat there watching the flames dance over what was left of the CDC. His pulse was going a mile a minute and he couldn't seem to catch his breath.

The reality of how close he had come to never seeing his child sunk in and made the blood in his veins runs cold with fear. He decided that he couldn't take this anymore … he would head out on his own, regardless of how dangerous it was. Family was all that mattered now, and he would find a way to get to them if it was the last thing he ever did.

***Lyrics to "Alone I Break" by Korn**


	10. Chapter 10 FRIEND

The engine of the pickup truck hummed loudly as Daryl navigated his way through the streets littered with abandoned cars and dead bodies. He followed the caravan along, not knowing when they were going to stop, or where they would end up. He thought about his new mission and how much he needed to get to Fort Benning, but he also knew the trip would require careful planning. He couldn't just take off and expect everything to go smoothly. He needed to stock up on supplies and ammo, if possible. He started thinking about what would happen if he did find Sara. Daryl didn't know the first thing about babies, and he started to wonder if his pickup truck was the best method of transportation. Jesus … things were a lot more complicated than he anticipated! At least kids Carl and Sophie's age were able to follow directions and could run on their own. Hell, they could even be taught how to use a gun … but a baby … that was a different story. Travel would be nearly impossible with an infant and Daryl knew the best thing would be to have someplace to settle down; someplace safe in country, so he could hunt. But where?

Daryl let out a slow, deep breath as he came to grips with the fact that he needed some information. He needed to talk to someone that had experience with children … someone who could give him some direction. Someone that would give him advice without trying to change his mind, or chastise him for his mistakes. Maybe Lori or Carol. Whoever it was, he'd have to tell them the whole situation and pray that they'd understand him.

Brake lights flickered ahead of him, and looked around to see they had passed into a stretch of highway that seemed relatively free of apocalyptic debris. He pulled the truck over and got out, heading toward the others gathering around Dale's RV.

Rick and Shane were already arguing about which way to go, while Dale, Glenn, and T-Dog were checking something out under the hood of the RV.

Lori appeared with Andrea to discuss their concern about the dwindling fuel and food supply.

"How much fuel do we have, does anyone know?" Andrea looked around, still shaken from the explosion.

"Rick, what are we going to do? We're gonna need more food … I know the kids are hungry" Lori pleaded with her husband.

"I know, I know … just let me think for a minute, would ya?" Rick had that deer-in-the-headlights look and for the first time, Daryl actually felt a little bad for the guy.

Daryl stood silently for a minute … until he remembered the maps he had confiscated at the CDC. He took off back to his truck and grabbed them out of his bag … that's when it hit him, like a ton of bricks. He knew EXACTLY where they needed to go! He hastily unfolded the map of Atlanta and as he looked it over, a small grin appeared on his face. He tucked the map away and sprinted towards the others.

"Hey! Ya'll need ta follow me! Git in yer vehicles, NOW!" he screamed. They all looked completely puzzled.

With his hand on his gun, Rick jogged towards Daryl while Lori and Andrea ran into the RV, "What is it Dixon? Walkers?"

Rick looked around nervously, as Glenn and Dale approached as well.

"No walkers … but I know where we can go. Just follow me!" Daryl started back towards his truck and motioned for Glenn to ride with him. T-Dog shouted, "Well how far is it?"

"Daryl … what the hell is going on?" Dale questioned.

He ignored them. He knew it was the right thing to do, and if they asked any more questions, they'd probably just find a reason not to go along. So … he just ignored them. Glenn climbed in the cab and sat still as Daryl pulled out past the other vehicles, pulling out in front. Everyone was glaring at Daryl in shock … or more likely, anger, but Daryl didn't care. He stepped on the gas, jerking Glenn back slightly, snickering as the kid grabbed hold of the dash and shot Daryl a salty look.

In the RV, Andrea questioned Rick why they were even following Daryl. "We're just gonna let him lead us into God knows where? I mean, isn't this a little crazy? We should have made the decision as a group!"

By now, Rick was agitated at the whole situation and his attention seemed to be off in the distance somewhere. "Does anyone else have a better idea? If he knows of a place to go, I say we can at least check it out"

"Check it out? … Check it out? We don't have enough gas to go 'check it out'! What if we get there and the whole place is crawling with walkers? Then, we're out of gas and we're dead anyways!" Andrea huffed.

Rick just drove on in silence, as Lori gave Andrea a stern look and whispered "Please keep it down, I don't want to scare the kids, ok?"

Dale spoke up softly, "Look … Daryl may not be the most pleasant person, but he has saved our asses … more than once. What's the worst that can happen? He wouldn't lead us into something dangerous, just so he'd have to bail us out again … am I right?"

No one answered.

Carol appeared from the bedroom in the back and sat down next to Andrea. Her voice was soft and calm, "Listen … I know we all have our issues with Daryl. But think about this … you guys left his brother chained on top of a roof to die. Merle was the only thing he had left, and yet he stood by, and protected us … ALL OF US. If it weren't for him, we'd all be starving right now"

There was a long silence. Carol got up and headed back to the children. She paused at the door, "All I'm saying, is that I think we need to give him a little more credit" and she disappeared into the room.

The rest of the ride was quiet.

Daryl led the convoy along for about 15 miles until he took an exit marked with a small sign that was barely visible from the road. He followed a winding road around a few miles of turns, crossing two dirt roads, until it went up a steep hill. Daryl hoped that the place he knew was still as secure as it used to be years ago.

The road straightened out at the base of the hill and a field on the right-hand side stretched out as far as the eye could see. The high fence around it looked like it had been put up yesterday, although the overgrown brush told a different story. Glenn braved a question as Daryl slowed down the truck.

"Dude … what IS this place?" he peered into the fields with amazement.

"I used ta come here once in a while fer work" Daryl mumbled. When they came upon the gate, Daryl pulled over and got out, waving Glenn to get behind the wheel. He grabbed an axe out of the truck bed, approached the gate, and took a couple of swings, breaking the padlock and chain that held the fence shut. He pushed open the gate, and motioned all the vehicles through, closing the gate after them and rigging the broken chain to re-lock the gate, at least temporarily.

He returned to the truck and climbed back in, leading the cars about a half-mile into the property where they came across a clearing. It then became clear to everyone exactly what this place was … a junkyard.

A small building stood in front of them, a sign reading "JUNCTION AUTO PARTS" adorning the top of the door, and a large 2-story house stood about 50 yards behind that. The junkyard was separated by a second fence at the back of the property, and the sea of old broken-down cars looked almost infinite.

The cars parked in a haphazard horseshoe shape and Rick stepped out cautiously, leaving the women and children in the RV. T-Dog and Shane emerged yielding their weapons, looking around at the quiet piece of land and the endless rows of cars beyond the second fence.

"How'd you know about this place Dixon?" Rick was still suspicious as he kept his gun at his side.

Daryl just shrugged, "I used ta tow cars here once in a while. I figure … there's plenty of junkers out there. We can fix all the vehicles up pretty good."

Shane rolled his eyes, unwilling to give up his 'authority', least of all to Daryl. "Well, I think we need to do a perimeter check first before we go getting all excited. We can't have the kids out here running around just yet" and he stormed off along the fence line.

A big smile had crept its way onto Dale's face, "Well, I think its brilliant Daryl! The front gate was still locked, so the place _has_ to be somewhat secure. That's a good start anyways."

Daryl was shocked at the compliment. He just stood there, in awe as the other men took off in all directions, checking for any sings of walkers, or ways they might be able to get in. Daryl was struck out of his daze when he remembered the little old couple that used to run the place. Daryl knocked on the window of the RV, and gave Lori the "come here" sign. Her eyes went wide, like she was somehow afraid of what Daryl wanted, but she stepped out reluctantly.

Daryl took her by the hand and walked around the side of the shop building. Coming around the back, in between the shop and the house, he suddenly stopped; he looked back at Lori and pointed to something.

"Check it out" he said.

Lori peered around the side of the shop to see a huge greenhouse that must have been 50 feet wide! Attached to one side was a large fenced in garden with overgrown plants, but she could see some tomatoes still clinging to the vine! There were all kinds of plants and even a few fruit trees off to the side. Lori covered her mouth with her hands in complete amazement. As her breathing became louder, a lone tear trickled down her cheek, she turned to Daryl and looked him in the eyes. "Thank you" her words were barely audible as the quiver in her throat caused her to gasp when she spoke. Daryl didn't know what to say, but just gave her a hint of a smile and a slight nod. She smiled and ran back to the RV to get Carol and the children, just as Rick and the other men caught up to her.

"Lori … Lori what's wrong?" Rick pestered his wife, seeing the tears in her eyes.

"Not a thing … go look for yourself" Rick realized they were tears of joy as he hurried around the side o f the building to where Daryl was standing.

The rest of the group had come as well, satisfied that the fence was still intact and there were no signs of walkers. Carol shrieked in happiness and hurried with the children to check out what vegetables they had and explore the greenhouse. Glenn and T-Dog high-fived after Rick pointed out the lemon trees, while Dale and Andrea were laughing at the silly gesture. Even Shane had a crooked smile on his face and it seemed that everyone was content for the moment. Daryl felt a small tug on his shirt and looked down to see Sophie smiling up at him. He bent down on one knee and she wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing harder than any kid that age should be able to. She whispered to him, "Thank you Daryl. You made my mom so happy … and me too!" Daryl folded one arm around the girl, and closed his eyes for a brief moment …wondering what it would be like to hold his own child. His eyes started to tear up, and he quickly stood up after Sophie let go and ran towards the garden to meet her mother.

Daryl turned and headed back to his truck, wiping the moisture from his face before anyone noticed. Rick caught up with him, giving him a pat on the back.

"Look … Daryl … I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, and I for that I'm sorry. I just can't thank you enough … for everything you've done. I really mean it. My family will be able to eat … and that means more than anything in the world to me." Rick held out his hand. Daryl slowly reached out to shake the man's hand. When he looked up at Rick, they seemed to understand one another, perhaps for the first time since they met. Daryl knew how much family meant and he knew that every move Rick made was to keep his family safe. Rick seemed to finally believe that Daryl wasn't the "bad-guy" after all. Sure, he had a hard exterior, but that's what made him a survivor, and considering their circumstances … that was a good thing.

The men went through both buildings, making sure there were no geeks hiding anywhere. The sun was setting, so the group decided to set up camp in the clearing for the night. Tomorrow, they would go through the house and secure the windows and doors, and send a few people into the junkyard to check out the security there as well.

Daryl took the first watch perched atop the RV, the events of the last couple of days running through his mind. He thought about the reactions of the others when they got to the junkyard. It felt good that their attitudes towards Daryl had finally changed and he wasn't sure how they would take the news that he had to leave. After all this time, he finally felt a little more connected to the group, but he was still set on heading to Fort Benning to look for Sara. Tomorrow, he would talk to Rick and Lori about his circumstances. After all … they had a son to worry about, so they would understand Daryl's motives.

He settled back into his chair and tried to figure out how he would explain everything to them …


	11. Chapter 11 SECRETS

**A/N**: I know … I know, you've all been so patient with me & for that I am thankful! My muse was being a right bastard, so I put the smack-down and … well, ok he didn't listen. Therefore, I spent many hours groveling, until he finally gave in and sent me this – which I now pass along to you ;-}

**Send away for a priceless gift  
>One not subtle, one not on the list<br>Send away for a perfect world  
>One not simply, so absurd<br>In these times of doing what you're told  
>Keep these feelings, no one knows<br>What ever happened to the young man's heart  
>Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart<strong>

**Send a message to the unborn child  
>Keep your eyes open for a while<br>In a box high up on the shelf, left for you, no one else  
>There's a piece of a puzzle known as life<br>Wrapped in guilt, sealed up tight**

**What ever happened to the young man's heart  
>Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart<strong>

**And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,  
>Swimming through the ashes of another life<br>No real reason to accept the way things have changed  
>Staring down the barrel of a 45<strong>

**Everyone's pointing their fingers  
>Always condemning me<br>And nobody knows what I believe***

"_Help me! Please, help me!" the screams were fading away. Daryl ran as fast as he possibly could, but the dark hallway just seemed to go on forever. His heart was beating so loud he could barely make out which direction the cries were coming from. He stopped, and stood perfectly still, his pulse pounding in his ears. He strained his eyes to see, the dim reflection of the moonlight bouncing off the cheap, broken floor tiles. The smell was sterile, like a hospital, but the atmosphere was thick with anguish. He reached for his knife, finding nothing but an empty case. _

_Why wasn't he armed? He never went anywhere without some kind of weapon. He heard the screams again this time, but now they sounded muffled. A dark figure scampered into one of the rooms on the left, so he crept towards the door slowly. When he rounded the corner, he found nothing but another dark hallway, with no one in sight._

_Suddenly, a man's voice rang out. "Daryl! Daryl!" It was coming from the far end of the hall._

_Daryl perked his head up "Merle? … Merle, that you?" A bright light blinded Daryl temporarily and he held up his arms to shield his eyes from the glow. He started running again, this time towards the light, his instincts driving his every move. The sound of his feet slamming the linoleum echoed like thunder as he willed himself to run faster and faster._

_The light grew softer now as Daryl reached the large room at the end of the hallway. He looked around but the room was empty, except for a small table in the middle, with a blue sheet draped over something. Daryl couldn't tell what was under the sheet, but he felt himself reaching out to it as he scrambled towards the table.. He tried to shout to Merle again, but his mouth opened silently, unable to form any words. He got closer and closer to the table as the screams came back into focus._

"_Please! Don't do this! … Just leave my baby alone PLEASE!" The woman's voice was clear as day. As Daryl reached for the blue sheet he could feel his skin starting to burn. The sheet began to move in the opposite direction, as If someone was pulling it from the other side of the table. Daryl reached his arm out as far as he could, but something was holding him back. He stretched until his muscles felt like they were going to rip in half. No matter how hard he tried, the table was just beyond his grasp!_

_He finally broke free and lunged at the table, just as the sheet fell and he heard her bone-chilling scream. He glanced down to see a tiny hand lying on the table, bloodied at the wrist …_

Daryl shot straight up, banging his knee on the steering wheel. "Sonuva bitch!" he muttered thru gritted teeth. He rolled down the window in an attempt to let the cool morning breeze dry the sweat from his face and neck. He looked over at the RV, where Rick was climbing down from his shift, T-Dog already perched in the chair, taking his place. The sun hadn't quite snuck over the horizon yet so Daryl assumed he had only been sleeping for a few hours. His head fell back on the front seat of the pickup and closed his eyes letting his heart rate slow back to normal.

That had to have been the most bizarre dream that Daryl had ever had. He never paid any attention to his dreams … but this one was different. When he closed his eyes, the image of a child's bloody hand … just like Merle's, was burned into the back of his eyelids. It made his skin crawl. What could it possibly mean? Daryl rarely spent time analyzing things that go bump in the night but he couldn't help thinking that maybe this was some kind of sign. Not that he had a fucking clue how to interpret it.

He got out of the truck, realizing that sleep was just a long lost comfort he could no longer afford. Rick had already climbed back into the tent with Lori and Carl, so Daryl signaled to T-Dog that he was going to patrol the fence line around the junkyard. The task took him over as hour as he carefully inspected every foot of the fence, which was incredibly still in-tact everywhere. As unlikely as it seemed, the inside of the junkyard still needed to be inspected for walkers but, for now, the place appeared relatively safe.

Daryl headed back to the makeshift camp, where the others were beginning to stir. He noticed Rick, Shane, and Dale talking in front of the RV, so he made his way over.

"Morning Daryl" Dale flashed a quick smile, and Daryl nodded in response.

" … already checked the fence to tha junkyard. It's still in one piece. But we need ta look fer geeks inside"

Rick turned towards Daryl, "That's good news. I guess we need to do a sweep of the house … when that's clear maybe the ladies can get things settled inside while we check out the yard."

Daryl agreed and made quick work of the house, checking every nook and cranny in the basement and main floor, while Shane checked the upstairs. Glenn and T-Dog made themselves useful, cleaning up the small 'office' building, and setting up security measures around the property. Daryl, Rick, and Shane spent the rest of the afternoon searching the yard for walkers coming up empty-handed. Apparently the old couple knew what the hell they were doing when they built this place.

As everyone settled down to eat supper, Daryl pulled Lori aside and asked her and Rick and meet him in the RV. He was a little surprised when she agreed without giving him any snide remarks. Daryl leaned his crossbow against the refrigerator while he paced the length of the RV. There was a soft knock, as the door opened and Rick and Lori stepped inside.

"What this about Daryl? Is there a problem?" Rick had perched himself on one side of the table, with Lori on the other.

"No problems … but … I'm gonna be leavin" Daryl paused, taking a deep breath. "I need ta git ta Fort Benning"

Lori's face contorted in confusion. "What do you mean? Why do you need to go there?"

Daryl looked to Rick who was just as confused, but remained silent.

Daryl just hung his head and responded quietly "… someone I need ta find"

The air suddenly felt thick and heavy as Daryl tried to steady his emotions. This was the first time he had even mentioned this to anyone, and it scared him to finally let it out.

Lori stood up and put her hands on her hips "You plannin' on going alone?"

"I ain't askin' yer husband, if that's what you was thinkin"

She breathed a sigh of relief, trying not to make it too obvious. Rick sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, contemplating the right words to say.

"Is it Merle you're lookin' for?" Daryl sensed that Rick was scared to ask that question.

"No, it ain't Merle … it's a girl … and her baby" Daryl shifted uneasily.

Lori sat back down, her face softening at the mention of a baby. She grabbed Rick's hand "Your baby?" she whispered to Daryl. He shook his head yes, "I think so"

"But you don't know for sure?" Rick whispered.

"I just" Daryl stumbled slightly with the words "… I know the kid's mine … but I don't know if either of 'em are still alive! I'm _gonna_ find out one way or another!"

It was silent for a minute until Lori spewed a barrage of questions, making Daryl's head spin.

"When was the last time you saw her? I mean, how do you know she's at Fort Benning … or if she's moved somewhere else?" Rick put his hand on Lori's shoulder as a signal to stop with the questions. "Ok Daryl … what exactly do you want from us?"

Reluctantly, he sat down and told them about Sara, as best as he could. He didn't go into details … they didn't really matter now anyway. He made it clear that no one could change his mind about going, it was something that _had_ to be done. The three of them talked for a few minutes before Daryl made them swear not to tell anyone else, at least not just yet. He knew there was a lot to get done before he could actually get on the road, and he needed to do it fast. Daryl didn't want to play twenty questions with the rest of the group.

Rick agreed to keep quiet, and told Daryl they would talk more about it the next day. Finally satisfied that he had done the right thing, Daryl headed off to get Glenn. He wanted to show the kid how they kept track of the cars in the junkyard, so they could easily locate the parts they needed.

The RV door slammed shut, and Rick and Lori looked at each other in astonishment at the conversation they just had with Daryl. "I just can't believe it" Lori spoke out loud "Do you think he'll make it back?"

"I really don't know. It's hard to say when you've got two other people to protect of and feed ... especially a baby"

"I … I just can't imagine bringing a baby into the world, the way it is now" Lori's words striking Rick like a blow to the head. The stress had returned to his face and as hard as he tried, he just couldn't mask it.

"Rick? Rick are you all right?" Lori pulled him into a hug.

"No, Lori … I … the doctor …" she began to tear up, hearing her husband falter.

"Tell me Rick! What is it? What about the doctor … Jesus, Rick what's wrong? Is it Carl?"

"No, no ,no … Carl's fine. Please, just sit down for a minute." Rick gathered his thoughts along with his courage before holding Lori's hand in his own. "That day … when we left the CDC … right before I ran out the door, Jenner whispered something to me."

"Oh God …" Lori's voice trailed off as her hands began to shake.

"When he analyzed everyone's blood … he discovered ... you're pregnant"

Lori's face went white and her eyes fluttered for a second before Rick grabbed a hold of her. "Hey, hey, hey … Lori, I promise you that we'll get through this, ok? We will_ find_ a way … and I won't let anything happen to you, or Carl, or the baby all right?"

She just nodded, her ability to speak hindered by the thoughts running thru her head … the thoughts of her and Shane, alone in the woods.

Rick didn't expect her to take it so hard and he thought it best to continue the conversation at a later time. He helped her up and walked her towards the door, "C'mon … we need to find Carl."

A few minutes later, there was a slow creak, as the bathroom door of the RV opened and Shane crept out, making sure no one saw him. He paced the aisle of the RV, hands shaking and heartbeat jumping. Carefully, he snuck out the front and climbed back up on top of the motor home to finish his shift, his mind running a mile a minute.

Daryl managed to fall asleep that night faster than he had in months, maybe even years. He was anxious as hell to get his plan rolling, but somehow, just telling Rick and Lori lifted a huge weight off of his chest and as soon as he closed his eyes, he fell into a deep peaceful sleep.

***Lyrics to 45 by Shinedown**


	12. Chapter 12 EMBARK

**A/N: SOOOOO sorry to keep you waiting, lovlies! As a reward, I have made this chapter EXTRA long for you! Hope you enjoy it ;-}**

Daryl awoke to the sound of birds chirping all around. He could feel the warmth from the sun spilling over the horizon, but he kept his eyes closed, taking in the delicate sound. The weather had cooled off just enough to begin changing the colors of the leaves, signaling the imminent arrival of fall. Being the first person up every morning, Daryl came to cherish the silence and the cool breeze that comes up with the sun. He almost felt normal again, if only for a brief moment, as he imagined himself sitting in a fishing boat, enjoying the piece and quiet of a secluded lake somewhere, while he taught his son how to bait the hook and cast off.

Suddenly, he wondered why he had thought of a son. It hadn't occurred to him that he had no idea what sex the baby was. If it was a girl, he hoped she looked like Sara, with softer features and dark curls that cascaded down her neck. Of course, if it was a boy, Daryl would have him shooting deer as soon as he could hold a crossbow. A crow cawed in the distance and his eyes opened as his chest tightened a little; reality crashing into him like a freight train. So much for a peaceful morning.

He decided to get up and check on the fire right away but as he approached the pit, Rick was already there poking at the already blazing fire. The guy looked like hell and Daryl was sure he hadn't slept a wink all night. He sat down quietly, cleaning his crossbow and arrows, waiting patiently for Rick to say something. He knew it was coming but didn't feel the need to rush anything and break the stillness just quite yet.

After what seemed like a half an hour Rick abruptly blurted out "Lori's pregnant", the words lingering like the stench of rotting walkers. Daryl kept his shock to himself and remained quiet, somehow sensing that Rick obviously had more to get off his chest.

"I don't know what to do Daryl … I don't even know … where to begin. This life on the run, is no life for a kid. Hell, I feel bad for Carl every day. But a baby?" Rick let out a long, heavy sigh and rubbed his five o'clock shadow; the weight of the world truly hanging on his shoulders. "I guess the best thing for us to do is bunker down somewhere safe, at least for the winter. It's the only thing I can think to do. This place seems pretty secure. Do you think we have a chance?"

Daryl thought long and hard about their situations; how much they had changed in such a short time, and how different he and Rick were only to be thrown into this sci-fi 'alternate universe' together, without rhyme or reason. But now, they both had a different reason for not only surviving … but truly living again. Although Daryl didn't know for sure how anything was going to work out, he couldn't deny that deep down he somehow knew Sara was still alive, and he knew he needed this place … this safe haven in the midst of the havoc that had consumed the planet, more than anything. Christ, these people were the only living souls that he knew, besides Merle … wherever he was.

Daryl stopped and looked at Rick, "I think we got as good a chance as any. We got plenty of metal in that damn junkyard … should be able ta secure the fences and set up some booby-traps. As long as we can stockpile enough food, I don't see why it wouldn't work."

Rick looked down and nodded his head slowly. Daryl could practically see the thoughts written on Rick's face, and for a second he thought Rick might just break down and cry. Attempting to avoid _that_ whole scenario, Daryl spoke up, "I'm gonna need a better vehicle ... when I head out … I'll leave the truck here for ya'll, but I need something more secure and with more cargo space." Daryl's line of sight wandered towards the junkyard. "I seen the old man has a suburban around back. Needs a little work … and I could use an extra hand"

"I think I can handle that" Rick stated- hope noticeably more prominent in his voice.

Daryl paused for a moment. "Maybe I can show the chinaman how to set some traps for small critters … so ya'll can have some fresh meat."

Rick took a moment before looking up into Daryl's eyes. "I'd really appreciate that Daryl" … but Daryl knew what he was really thinking. _I appreciate you keeping my wife and my unborn child from starving to death, and/or being eaten by the walking dead._

"I guess we both have some confessing to do then … to the others, I mean"

Silence was Daryl's response as he stood up and started to walk away … until Rick interrupted him, "Daryl …" He shifted uneasily, unsure of what was really on his mind.

"You _are_ coming back … right?" Rick gently pleaded.

Daryl thought for a long moment. In all honesty, he didn't have a clue. There was no way of knowing what he would find there and how he would deal with it. His only plan was to let his instincts guide him and hope that would be enough to get him out of whatever situation he found himself facing.

He turned to Rick, "That's the plan … but I can't make no guarantees" was all he could offer before heading off towards the junkyard.

Later that evening, as everyone sat quietly around the fire, Daryl took a seat on the ground keeping himself a safe distance from the others. Lori had dubbed the impending conversation as 'adults only' so she herded Carl and Sophie to the RV to play cards, before returning to sit next to Rick, her hand immediately covering his. Somehow, the tension in the air had grown palpable even though, to the best of his knowledge, nothing had been said about Daryl leaving. However, news travels fast in such a small group, and to be honest he was surprised no one had confronted him about it. Rick looked at Daryl as if asking for permission to speak, and Daryl simply nodded, grateful that Rick took the initiative.

Rick cleared his throat, "Everyone … I have a couple of announcements to make"

"First of all, I think we need to talk about what we're going to do next. We still have a few months of decent weather, but winter's just around the corner, and I think it'd be best if we stayed here. The place seems safe, and traveling during the cold isn't gonna be easy." There was a long, awkward pause. "Of course … Lori and I have another reason for wanting to stay here …" His voice trailed off, as the entire camp leaned in closer to hear what was being said. Lori set her chin into her folded hands and Daryl caught the shimmer of a single tear falling down her cheek.

"Lori's pregnant" Rick murmured, barely audible even through the clear night air. T-Dog and Glenn both dropped their jaws a little. Andrea gasped loudly, and Carol put her arm around Lori, knowing this wasn't exactly good news. Before anyone could respond, Shane got up mumbling about checking out a noise he heard. Rick spoke up, practically pleading with his best friend, "Shane … I know this isn't the best situation for us to be in, and I'm not asking anyone here to stay on our behalf. But, we _will _get through this" he paused to take Lori's hand, "and we'll take all the help we can get."

The dark of Shane's eyes shone over the group as he nodded curtly and hurried towards the house, leaving a confused-looking Rick behind.

Dale leaned back and took off his hat to rub the gray hair underneath. "I don't think you've got much of a choice. It's far too risky to travel with a baby. I agree … staying here, at least for the winter, is probably the best shot … for all of us"

Daryl kicked at the dirt underneath his foot.

"What about food? Will we have enough for the winter? " Glenn was looking at Daryl, as the rest of the group followed suit. Suddenly Daryl felt very awkward, not knowing how to tell them he was leaving, and that they'd have to fend for themselves.

Without thinking he opened his mouth, "Between the garden and the greenhouse, you guys should have plenty of food"

_Dammit. Leave it to Glenn to catch that._

Sure enough, Glenn's head turned once again in Daryl's direction, "What do you mean 'you guys'?"

The rest of the group sat there waiting for an answer like children who had just been scolded.

Daryl just lowered his eyes to the glowing fire in front of him. "I'm heading ta Fort Benning … once I git that ol' Suburban up to snuff"

Daryl thought for a minute even the crickets stopped chirping. Normally silence was heaven to Daryl, but this rather uncomfortable one had him on edge. He got up and left Rick to explain as he headed into the office building that had been turned into a make-shift base of operations. Daryl found himself pacing the empty room, his boots scraping the concrete floor as he clenched his fists.

He wasn't angry, but a strange feeling was curdling in his bloodstream. A feeling that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. Something scratching at his nerve endings like sandpaper.

FEAR.

Christ, he would give anything to have someone to punch in the face right now. Something to take his mind off of these ridiculous thoughts going through his head. As he approached the back wall of the building, he drew back his fist, ready to give the wall the brunt of his emotional breakdown …

BAMM! Daryl jumped back a few feet as the sound of someone … or something … beat him to the punch, quite literally. The crossbow that lay next to the door was in his hands and poised for action before he could blink his eyes. Daryl hurried to the small window in back hoping to see whatever had made the noise. The darkness had fallen and he squinted his eyes in an attempt to make out the figure standing a few feet away.

The relief was short-lived as he watched the figure pace back and forth. It wasn't a walker … it was Shane. Daryl let out the breath he had been holding and watched as Shane ran his fingers thru his hair, and quickly stormed off in the other direction, unaware of the onlooker inside the building.

Carefully, Daryl walked around the back of the building and inspected the brick wall. He could see a faint amount of blood dripping down the mortar, undoubtedly from the impact of Shane's fist. Daryl knew exactly why Shane was mad. He had his suspicions ever since the day he joined the camp, and when he noticed the scratch marks on Shane's neck at the CDC … he put two and two together.

Things around here were getting entirely too complicated. At that moment, Daryl was actually glad to be leaving. He decided he would start working thru the night; he didn't need sleep, he needed to get his ass to Fort Benning. Daryl grabbed his crossbow and headed around the house to the Suburban. He dug around for the tools he needed and got right to work … he was on a mission.

The next 24 hours were a whirlwind of activity for Daryl. He planned out what he needed to do on the Suburban, and gathered all of the junkyard records with Glenn's help. Turns out, that kid could navigate paperwork almost as good as he navigated the streets of Atlanta. Rick, Dale, and even T-Dog pitched in to help securing the windows of the giant brown tank of an SUV, and clear out the back to fill with what little supplies anyone could give up. Two gas cans strapped to the roof contained gas from wherever they could find it; the lawn mower, the dirt bike, and even the old snow-blower. Daryl packed his camping gear and got an extra sleeping bag from the RV, shoving it all in the back seat. He spent the afternoon showing Andrea, Glenn and Carol how to make traps for small animals, and tried to explain how to skin them … but Andrea's face went white and Glenn had to excuse himself to keep from throwing up. Carol just sighed and said they'd figure it out as they went.

T-Dog found an old CB radio in the basement that still worked and watched carefully as Dale installed it in the Suburban. Daryl felt an odd twinge of relief knowing that he still had a connection, albeit a small one, with people of the living persuasion.

No one said anything to Daryl about why he was leaving or what he hoped to find. He could only assume that if Rick didn't tell them his reasons, they were too scared to ask … and for that Daryl was glad.

The plan was to leave in the morning at first light. Not only for the head-start, but also for Daryl's sanity. He didn't want to hear any sappy goodbyes. He decided to sit at the fire, knowing that trying to sleep would be a lost cause. Several times, he went over the map and the route that Glenn had given him. He tried to commit every alternate route to memory in case he had to detour on the fly.

Everyone else had turned in for the evening, except for Dale, who was perched on the RV to take the first watch. Out of the corner of his eye, Daryl spotted Carol heading his way carrying a small bag under her arm … Sophie trailing not far behind.

"Here … I packed you some food. It's not much, a few cans of beans, some water, and couple tomatoes. It should get you through the day though. Maybe you won't have to stop." Daryl nodded his thanks and got up to place the bag on the front seat of the Suburban. Carol offered a tiny smile and started back towards the house to turn in for the night, when Sophie stopped and turned around.

"Daryl … I don't want you to leave" she said, her head hung low while the flower she was holding rolled between her fingers.

"Sophie ..." Carol whispered, but the frail little girl had already made her way to Daryl, handing him the slightly limp daisy.

"Do you promise to come back?"

For the first time, Daryl actually looked into her eyes. The once bright blue had faded into a somber gray and her pupils were devoid of the sparkles that every kid has. Her cheeks were vaguely sunken in, and the brown skin on her face had an ashy tone to it ... most likely from the lack of sunscreen and lotion.

Daryl didn't know what to say. He felt his heart break a little looking at this innocent child who had been ripped away from everything that was good in life. His own childhood had been no picnic, but he got the feeling that somehow, it didn't even compare to the Armageddon they all faced.

He reached out and took the daisy from Sophie's hand, "I promise that I'll try my best ta come back ... just for you"

She smiled an exhausted smile, but seemed relieved to just hear those words. She planted a quick kiss on Daryl's cheek and took off running back to the house. Carol mouthed the words "thank you" to Daryl and he knew she understood that he may not be able keep his promise. But it gave Sophie some hope, and that's what mattered.

A few minutes later, Daryl got lost in the crackle of the fire and he wondered exactly when his own eyes had lost their sparkle ...

"_Move yer ass!" Merle screamed at the top of his lungs. Daryl was running as fast as he possibly could, ducking under the flailing branches that he could see, and getting smacked with the ones he couldn't. The floor of the small woodland behind their house was moist from the earlier storm and Daryl was slipping and sliding every which way. But he knew not to look back ... Beau was pissed as all hell, but he was drunk, and incapable of running too far before having to catch his breath. _

"_C'mon Daryl ... follow me!" Merle darted around him and Daryl kept his eyes focused on the back of his shirt. They jumped over a few fallen trees and took a couple of sharp turns before coming to the river. Without a word Merle shoved Daryl into the chilly waist-deep water, and jumped in after him. _

_Daryl's legs and feet were freezing, but he didn't speak a word. They trudged across the rocks and Daryl nearly fell into the fast-moving current before Merle grabbed the collar of his shirt, hauling him to his feet._

_They crawled up the riverbank and collapsed on the rough sand, both of them breathing heavily. _

"_Ya know ... you run pretty slow ... fer an eight-year-old" Merle panted._

_Daryl sat up on his elbows "I coulda run faster if I knew where we was goin!" _

"_Awww, just shut up and git on yer feet boy! We gotta git to the damn fire pit 'fore we freeze ta death" Merle got up and put his hand out to help Daryl up. The water of the river wasn't exactly icy, but now that the October sun had gone down, Daryl was starting to shiver a little. He followed Merle through some more brush until they reached a clearing with a small fire-pit that had been dug into the ground. Daryl had never been there, but assumed it was the late-night hangout of Merle and his buddies, judging from the empty beer cans and cigarette butts everywhere. _

_Merle clamored around a big tree and pulled out a small duffle bag. He instructed Daryl to get out the binoculars while he gathered some kindling for the fire._

_From the clearing, Daryl could see the faint lights of other house along their street. It was actually a fairly good vantage point to spot anyone coming from either direction. Daryl rubbed his arm in a feeble attempt to warm himself up. Merle pulled a sweatshirt from the bag and tossed it to Daryl, when suddenly two loud shots rang out in the distance._

"_SHIT!" Merle hissed._

"_What is it Merle? Is it Beau?"_

"_Quiet ... just listen fer a second" Merle stood up and peered thru the binoculars even though the black of night prevented him from seeing anything._

_A few moments passed and a thunderous voice echoed beyond the river._

"_You can run, but you can't hide! Don't think I don't know where yer little hideout is ... you little bastards!"_

_Daryl looked at Merle, the panic settling in. Merle just paced for a few seconds, then put the binoculars in the duffel bag and handed it to Daryl._

"_Here ... see that path over there? Follow it 'round until ya pass Mr. Jenkins fence. The second house after that is Billy's. He's got a tree house in the back corner. I want you ta go there and hide until I come and git you!" _

_Daryl started to protest "What are you gonna do? I don't wanna go by myself Merle! Don't leave me!"_

"_God dammit kid, I gotta go git that gun away from him 'fore he shoots one of us! Just do as I said!" Merle gave him a healthy shove before heading off in the other direction._

_Daryl clutched the bag as hard as he could and ran along the path until he passed the rotten red fence, just like Merle said. He spotted the tree house almost immediately and headed straight for it. He slung the bag over his shoulder and started up the wobbly steps into the fort._

_Crouching in the corner, Daryl tried to catch his breath ... when another shot rang out in the distance. Daryl covered his mouth, afraid that even the sound of his breathing would somehow give away his hiding spot. He waited ... and waited ... and waited, until his legs were cramped from sitting so long. He never heard another sound. _

_As the night wore on, he perched himself in front of the window of the fort with the binoculars in hand. The sky grew lighter, but still ... no sign of Merle, or Beau for that matter. He noticed the lights on the inside of the houses coming on as people were getting ready to start their day. He peered thru the binoculars at the small blue house that belonged to Billy's mom and dad. He saw them sitting at their table eating cereal, or whatever else they had. A baby sat in a high-chair being fed by a tiny woman in pink pajamas. The man in a blue mechanic's uniform kissed her on the cheek before heading out the front door._

"_Hey!" Daryl jumped at Merle's voice, "Let's go"_

_He looked down to see Merle starring up at him with a black eye, and a lip covered in dried blood. He had a bandage around his right forearm and Daryl could see bruises on his neck._

_But ... Merle was still standing, and Daryl wondered for a minute what Beau looked like. He slowly made his way down the steps to Merle, but didn't say a word. He just followed him back towards their house. When they got home, Merle steered Daryl into the back bedroom and plopped down on the bed._

"_Git some sleep little man ..."_

_As Daryl crawled into bed beside his big brother, he came to realize that no matter what happened ... his life would NEVER be like the family in the blue house._

Daryl stood up and stretched. The dawn hadn't quite broken yet, but Daryl knew it was time to go. He put another small log on the fire and glanced up at Rick, who had taken over the watch a few hours ago. Rick stood up and gave Daryl a nod, which he promptly returned and climbed into the old SUV. He took a deep breath and turned the key firing up the loud, but sturdy vehicle. As he pulled the lever down to the "D" position, he heard the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked, and the cold feel of steel pressed against the back of his head.

"Just drive Dixon ..."

_Motherfucker._


	13. Chapter 13 SURPRISE

**Frozen in the place I hide  
>Not afraid to paint my sky with<br>Some who say I've lost my mind  
>Brother try and hope to find<strong>

**You were always so far away  
>I know that pain so don't you run away<br>Like you used to do**

**Roses in a vase of white  
>Bloodied by the thorns beside the leaves<br>That fall because my hand is  
>Pulling them hard as I can<strong>

**You were always so far away  
>I know that pain and I won't run away<br>Like I used to do**

**Pictures in a box at home  
>Yellowing and green with mold<br>So I can barely see your face  
>Wonder how that color taste<strong>

**You were always so far away  
>I know the way so don't you run away<br>Like you used to do  
>Like you used to do*<strong>

Daryl exhaled slowly and pulled out of the old junkyard. "What the fuck do ya think yer doing?" he spat thru gritted teeth. As they pulled out onto the road, Shane climbed into the front seat keeping the small handgun aimed at Daryl's head.

"I'm going to Fort Benning with you, that's what I'm doing ... and don't even think about trying anything funny"

He readjusted himself in the seat so he could peer into the side mirror as the clunky Suburban pulled away from their most recent residence.

Daryl could feel his cheeks flushing with anger as he kept one eye on the road and the other on Shane, patiently waiting for the perfect moment. He rolled down the front windows, partly to get some air, and partly in case someone needed a quick shove.

For twelve miles, the car was silent; Daryl carefully navigating his way along the road and Shane sitting with his back to the passenger door, the gun reflecting specs of morning light like a disco ball on the interior.

Shane's eyes momentarily averted to something scurrying down into the embankment.

Quickly, Daryl slammed on the brakes sending the SUV sideways and lurching Shane forward towards Daryl. Steering with one hand, the other snatched the gun from Shane's hand in one swift motion until they came to a complete stop. Before Shane could blink, he was starring down the barrel of his own gun with a pissed off Dixon at the other end.

"Get the FUCK out!" Daryl screamed.

Shane's expression went blank as his hands slowly raised in defeat. He began pleading with Daryl, "Look man, I just need to get the hell away for a bit ... you know, clear my head. I _need _to know if there's anything left of the world."

Daryl chest was heaving up and down as Shane's words went in one ear and out the other. He didn't really care why the hell he was in the car, Daryl just wanted him out. He tried to reason with himself briefly that leaving him here on the highway wasn't wrong ... just survival. But, before he could contemplate any longer, a shadowed glimpse caught his eye. He cocked the gun as Shane begged for his life ...

"Please Dixon! Don't do this ..."

BANG!

The sound echoed thru Daryl's ears as he hammered the gas pedal to the floor. Shane sat up from his crouched position, taking cover from the bullet that he _thought _was intended for him.

"Jesus!" Shane turned to look in the rearview mirror, just in time to see one walker corpse on the ground, and a few more staggering their way to where the suburban was just stopped. He looked over at Daryl, who was concentrating on the road in front of him. The clenched muscles in Daryl's jaw made Shane think twice before opening his mouth again.

Blood had splattered onto the front dash as well as the back of Shane's shirt. Daryl pulled a rag out from under the seat and hurled it at Shane.

"I'm tellin' ya right now, if you can't keep up I _will_ leave you behind; and if you git in my way I will run yer sorry ass over! Got it?"

The car was silent ... again.

Daryl's anger was seeping from his head directly into his bloodstream. This was NOT something he wanted to deal with right now. He knew his attention needed to be focused on Sara, but his new tag-a-along threatened to jeopardize the whole god damned plan! He tucked the handgun into the waist of his pants. As he looked around, he saw few straggling walkers here and there so Daryl summoned every once of patience he had and kept driving. Shane's time would come ... sooner or later.

For the next few hours, Daryl tooled along the highway, slow but steady. The wreckage of cars didn't block the road entirely and Daryl managed to maneuver the beastly vehicle around, dipping into the occasional ditch in an effort to avoid any damage he possibly could. Shane sat unusually still beside him and Daryl couldn't help but think that he had something to say. Since Daryl didn't really want to hear any of it, he made sure to flash him an angry look every once in a while ... just for good measure. The sun was high in the sky when Daryl finally saw a clearing and pulled over to check the map and stretch his legs. He got out and spread the map over the hood.

"Where are we at?" Shane bellowed, glancing up and down the highway.

Daryl pointed, "just past mile marker 109."

Shane ventured closer to lean over the map and take a look himself. "We're almost there, ya think?" Shane's voice trembled with a hint of fear.

Daryl ignored his question, but pulled the small handgun out and tossed it in Shane's direction.

"I better never catch you pointin' that thing at me again"

Shane caught the weapon and stuffed it into the holster on his hip.

Daryl reached into the backseat to double-check that his crossbow was loaded. He walked around the vehicle and checked each tire before hopping back into the driver's seat. Shane took his place in the front seat and the two headed off once again down the road. Another long, dull hour passed. The early autumn sun would be setting in a few short hours, and being on the road after dark was a risk Daryl wasn't willing to take. The interstate curved off to the left and a large sign caught Daryl's attention. It was hanging crooked, having been knocked off one support post and looked like someone had used it for target practice. Despite the splay of bullet-holes, the words were still visible:

**Fort Benning **

**Military Base **

**2 miles**

Daryl slowed the engine just a bit, his blood pumping a little faster, and turned onto the exit ramp. He drove slowly along the blacktop roads, taking in his surroundings and making mental notes of which streets looked clear, and which ones to avoid. When he came to a 'T' in the road, Daryl turned left ... the opposite direction of the base.

"Where you headin' Dixon?"

"Does it really matter? I'm the one drivin" Daryl made no attempt to hide his aggravation. He knew damn well what he was doing, and Shane would just have to deal with it unless he wanted a size 12 in his ass.

His memory guiding him, Daryl turned onto Carpenter Street, and slowed to a stop in front of the small white house. He threw the suburban in park and turned off the engine. He stepped out to survey the scene. Despite all the time that had passed, the neighborhood looked almost the same. The place was empty and the cars were all parked neatly on the side of the road, or in their respective driveways. There weren't any walkers in sight. The papers and small bits of garbage that sprinkled the streets, and the dirty windows of the cars and houses, were the only indication that several months had passed since the last time Daryl had been there.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something just wasn't right. After all that had happened, it was impossible to go anywhere without seeing some kind of destruction. Daryl grabbed his crossbow, while Shane climbed out of the suburban and checked the ammo in his handgun. Shane slowly walked towards the other end of the street, while Daryl knelt down to look at the road. He could see vague stains and smears of blood embedded into the cracks of the concrete, but there were no standing pools of blood, no makeshift weapons lying around, and perhaps the most frightening of all ... no dead bodies.

What the hell happened here? Why weren't there any walkers lying in the streets, like everywhere else? Jenner's words echoed in Daryl's ears: _somehow they got a warning before the rest of the world did._

Suddenly, Daryl was glad he came to Sara's house first. His instincts were spot on, once again, placating his nerves ever-so-slightly. He knew better than to just go waltzing in to a military base, especially in the aftermath of ... well, whatever the hell you would call this.

"DIXON!" Shane hollered from the end of the block "I think you're gonna want to see this ..."

Daryl stood up, poised and alert, while his eyes scanned the barren vicinity.

He took up a quick jog towards Shane, as he pointed down the next side street. Daryl stopped to turn his head.

"Is that what I think it is?" Shane asked.

Daryl's heart skipped a beat. He strained his eyes in the fading daylight ...

_It can't be ... _

The sound of Daryl's footsteps echoed between the houses. He ran as fast as he could towards the white box van, parked haphazardly on the street. There was one tire up over the curb, and the back door was cracked open about 6 inches. Daryl paused at the back and waited for Shane to catch up. He signaled him to open the door, while he steadied his crossbow. His heart was in his throat, and the only sound he could hear was his pulse thumping loudly in his ears.

Shane counted silently ... 1 ... 2 ... 3 ...

Daryl held his breath and a strange feeling washed over him.

With one intense thrust, Shane threw up the door ...

Nothing.

The van was empty. Daryl scurried to the front to check the seats.

More nothing.

Daryl lowered his weapon and climbed into the back. There were a few articles of clothes thrown on the floor, next to a dirty sleeping bag and an empty can of beans. There were various pieces of garbage lying everywhere: an empty beer case, plastic bottles, and wrappers from what looked like some kind of candy. A small cooler sat in the corner closest to the driver's seat. Daryl reached out to open it, finding two full bottles of water and a bottle of pills ... probably pain killers, judging from sheer size of them.

For a brief moment, Daryl pondered whether or not it was actually Merle who had been living in the van. Sure, he stole the van in the first place, but who knows what kind of shit he had gotten into since then. And who knows how long the van had been sitting here.

Daryl bent down to examine some of the clothes, when he noticed a black heap tucked under the mattress. He gave it a tug, and the contents of his stomach almost saw daylight. It was Merle's black leather vest.

A million questions raced through Daryl's mind. Was Merle still alive? Was he close by? Why was he in Fort Benning? Was it pure coincidence that he was a block away from Sara's house, when Daryl never told him where she lived?

His head felt like it was filled with helium.

Shane appeared at the back, after digging thru the contents of the cab. He saw Daryl sitting on the floor holding Merle's vest, his face pale as the moon.

"I found this in the front seat. Maybe it means somethin' to you" Shane hurled a small notebook at Daryl.

Daryl stared at the writing ... he knew it wasn't Merle's. It almost looked feminine, but the stains and holes in the paper made it hard to make out the words:

Ft B nni

acci at ns

The first line was obviously "Ft Benning" ... but Daryl had no clue what the second line was. He tore out the page and crumpled it into his pocket while he jumped out of the back. He closed the door slowly, making sure to leave it open a few inches, just like he found it.

Daryl walked silently back towards Carpenter Street, and rounded the corner. As he walked, he felt the color returning to his face, along with the haze of emotions that he could no longer contain.

"Dixon? ... Dixon? What was that all about? Where the hell are you going?" Shane bellowed.

Daryl kept walking, his blood coursing violently thru his veins.

"Dixon! God dammit, answer me!"

Daryl turned around and smashed one hell of a right hook to Shane's jaw. He fell backwards onto the pavement and Daryl pounced on top of him and quickly landed another blow to his cheekbone.

All Daryl could see was red! Truth be told, he wasn't mad at Shane. He was mad at Merle. He was mad that the god-damned world had gone to shit! He was mad that he didn't go to find Sara sooner. But mostly, he was mad at himself for being too late to save his brother ... again.

Before he knew it, Shane had somehow shoved him off and Daryl was lying in the middle of the street, staring at the stars, and listening to Shane's muffled curses. He closed his eyes, and for the first time in his life ... Daryl prayed.

"_Well, well, well ... if it ain't Merle Dixon. I think you and me got business ... outside. NOW!"_

_The tall, lanky, wanna-be cowboy sauntered outside the bar where Merle and Daryl were having their usual beer after work. Today was just like any other day, except for the fact that it was Daryl's 21st birthday. Of course, Merle had been taking Daryl to the bar for a few years now, so there was no real need to 'celebrate' as most people did. Instead, Merle simply offered to pay for everything. Daryl took full advantage ... since that happened about as often as Hailey's Comet came around._

"_What's got his panties in a twist?" Daryl asked as he swallowed the last of his beer and cracked open another one._

_Merle simply shrugged, "Who knows ... I prolly did his ol' lady er somethin"_

_It wouldn't be the first time someone had called Merle outside, and if sure as hell wouldn't be the last. But Daryl knew his brother couldn't afford another stint in the county jail, so he saw an opportunity ... and he took it._

_Daryl hopped off his barstool and darted out the front door, before Merle even knew what hit him._

_By the time Merle made it outside, Daryl and the cowboy were standing face-to-face ready to let loose on each other. Merle was a little confused, but raised his hands in acceptance when Daryl shot him a I-know-what-the-fuck-I'm-doing look. Merle just leaned up against the building and lit a cigarette, anxious to see the damage his little brother was about to inflict on the unsuspecting man._

_After a few more shouts and curses, the brawl began with a vengeance. Daryl threw the other guy against his own pickup truck, knowing full well that damn thing could take a beating. Fists were flying every which way and Merle was quite surprised at how well the cowboy held his own. It was a full ten minutes of blood, dust, and grunts as they tumbled around the dirt parking lot. Finally, Daryl landed the finishing blow to the cowboy's nose, and he rolled over, barely conscious. _

_Daryl sat up, his chest heaving for oxygen as a trail of crimson-stained sweat poured off his face._

_He looked over at Merle, as he squatted down to the cowboy, "You best count yer blessings that ya didn't have ta square off against me. I might not have left ya breathin." Merle gave the man a light-hearted slap to the face. He stood up and walked towards Daryl, extending his hand out to help his little brother up. _

_Daryl dusted himself off, as Merle put his arm over his shoulder, "More shots?" he chuckled as they headed back into the bar._

_It wasn't spoken, but Daryl knew that was when their relationship changed. He went from being the little brother ... to just being a brother. It seemed he had finally proven, in some strange way, that he was just as much of a man as Merle was. It may have been insignificant to Merle ... but it was a moment Daryl would never forget. _

Daryl opened his eyes and looked over to see Shane sitting on the street, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand. Their eyes met, and although Daryl felt a twinge of guilt for hitting him, he also felt Shane deserved it for pointing that damn gun at Daryl's head earlier that morning. Shane didn't say a word, and Daryl hoped that he finally learned not to fuck with him.

Daryl stood up and headed towards Sara's house, creeping around the side until he found a window that was unlocked. He shoved it open and climbed inside. The front door opened and Daryl started hauling weapons from the Suburban into the house, while Shane followed suit silently. The sun had officially set and the last remnants of light were fading quickly as Daryl sat down at a small kitchen table and began to sort thru his ammo.

Shane finally opened his mouth, "What's the plan? We stayin' here tonight?"

"Only fer a few hours" Daryl replied calmly.

Even Shane noticed the dark tone in Daryl's voice ... and it sent a chill up his spine. "Then what?"

"Then ..." Daryl cocked the shotgun "We go hunting"

***Lyrics to "Brother" by Alice In Chains.**

**A/N: Sooooo ... what do you think? Any ideas as to what's going to happen? Any suggestions for me?**

**Drop a little review and let me know how I'm doing *bats eyelashes* Pretty Please?**


	14. Chapter 14 WATCH

**A/N:**Well, here we are! Another Sunday night with no Walking Dead to watch *frown*. Hopefully this will fill a tiny bit of the void we are all feeling. I'm sorry this took so long, but hopefully it was worth the wait! To my faithful readers and reviewers … thank you all, from the bottom of my heart. You are the reason I continue with this newly formed obsession we call FANFIC.

ENJOY!

**I was born of the womb of a poisonous man,**

**Beaten and broken and chased from the land.**

**But I rise up above it, high up above it and see**

**I was hung from a tree made of tongues of the weak,**

**The branches, the bones of the liars and thieves.**

**Rise up above it, high up above it and see**

**Pray to your God, open your heart,**

**Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark.**

**Cover your eyes, the devil inside.**

**One night of the hunter,**

**One day I will get revenge,**

**One night to remember,**

**One day, it'll all just end***

Daryl's foot tapped impatiently on the dusty floor of the kitchen. He sat ... waiting ... for what exactly, he wasn't sure. Shane sat on the couch clutching his shotgun; his head leaned all the way back, allowing the steady rhythm of his breathing to whisper eerie echoes throughout the room. Daryl's brain was in overdrive; thinking, planning, praying.

The two had spent the better part of an hour checking all of the windows and door locks, the basement, and even the tiny fenced in backyard. As peculiar as it was, Daryl was relieved that the place seemed to be devoid of anything ... dead or undead.

His thought process was pretty simple ... get in, find Sara and the baby, and get the fuck out. Something told Daryl that it wouldn't be that easy, but that was his plan. Either way, he wanted to make sure the house was secure so they had a place to hide, lest they be chased by anything upon their departure from the military base. With any luck, they wouldn't even need to come back here, but Daryl knew damn well that _luck_hadn't exactly been on his side lately.

With Shane resting and the house locked up tight, there was only one thing left for Daryl to do. He gave a heavy sigh, reached for the small candle that was burning on the table, and headed to the bedroom down the hall. He shut the door behind him and looked around. The bed was positioned at the back wall underneath the small window, and a low dresser adorned the wall opposite the door. There were several boxes on the floor of the open closet. Daryl sat down on the bed, taking in the familiar scent of Sara's hair that lingered on the pillow. He took a long, slow breath, remembering the delicate features of her face, the warmth from the small of her back, and the way she slept with her hands curled under her chin. He realized, perhaps for the first time, that he actually loved her. He'd never said it to her, or anyone else for that matter, but sitting here in her room, it became absurdly clear to him.

His eyes shifted slightly to the boxes on the floor and he felt his heart sinking like the icy Titanic. They all contained baby things; blankets, diapers, bottles, some toys, and a crib that, judging from the shape of the box, still needed to be assembled.

He suddenly felt himself admiring how brave Sara really was. He knew her mother was just as horrible as his own and he couldn't imagine how scared she probably was, having no experience, and no one to give her any direction of sorts. From the looks of the house, the couple that lived here didn't have any children either. There were no toys laying around, no photos on the walls, and no playpens or high chairs anywhere. Daryl silently cursed himself for not responding to her letter sooner.

He pulled out a suitcase from under the bed and began packing it methodically. He grabbed as many baby clothes as he could, and folded them with a delicacy that he never knew he possessed. He just couldn't bring himself to throw everything into the bag, feeling that would be nothing short of disrespectful. Instead, he treated every item like it was breakable glass, carefully lining the suitcase and neatly packing them on top of one another. As he finished with the baby clothes, he began folding Sara's clothes. He filled one suitcase and found a large duffle bag, loading that up as well. Daryl sat back down on the bed, looking at the bags and boxes in front of him. The crib box had a picture of a young couple standing next to the edge of the crib, reaching down to snuggle their smiling baby boy. It occurred to Daryl that he never knew anyone who was truly _that_ happy. Merle certainly never had a real relationship ... just floozies he brought home from the bar, or met at some party. Although his mother and Beau were exactly alike, they never showed any signs of being _happy_ with one another. Hell, Rick and Lori were about the only thing close to real happiness he had ever seen. Daryl wondered whether or not he could bring true happiness to anyone's life.

With a heavy heart, he got up and walked over to the small dresser, looking over the few knick knacks Sara had placed on the top. There was a small wooden box with a broken clasp which made the lid sit ever-so crooked on top. Daryl carefully opened it up ... the black and white image inside twisting his heart in a million different directions. He leaned in closer to better inspect the ultrasound picture ... when he noticed the small writing in the bottom corner.

**Baby Dixon**

He was just staring at the picture when it started. Daryl felt the warm trickle of a tear falling down his cheek ... one by one ... until the flood gates had been opened and he wept silently to himself. At that point, he wasn't quite sure whether they were tears of joy, or tears of sadness ... all he knew was that he needed to cry. He needed to get rid of all the emotions that he had locked up tight for so long.

God, it felt good.

His head began to clear, like clouds parting in the summer sky. He more he cried, the easier it was for him to let go of everything. It was as if all the rotten memories from his past just dissolved into thin air, and nothing mattered anymore. He knew his purpose in life and he knew everything would be ok.

The hushed crackle of the candle flame slowly lulled Daryl back into reality. He carefully folded the picture in half, and tucked it into his pocket. With the back of his hand, he wiped the tears from his face, and began hauling the suitcases and boxes to the front door. He woke Shane by giving his foot a soft kick, and motioned for him to help with the luggage. Shane consented silently with a small nod of his head. The Suburban was packed and ready to go, so Daryl closed the front door of the house, leaving it unlocked. He took a deep breath, loaded his crossbow, and headed towards the base.

They trudged along the dark, secluded streets of Fort Benning, prepared to duck behind a bush or a parked car if anyone ... or anything came their way; Daryl in the lead, and Shane trailing close behind. The glow of the spotlights at the base reminded Daryl of Friday night football games at the local high school. The whole town usually attended, although Daryl and Merle were rarely allowed to go. But the bright lights of the stadium lit up the entire sky and could be seen on a clear night from just about anywhere in town. Funny ... Daryl never thought he would _long_ to be headed to a football game.

Daryl managed to lead Shane around a few buildings and into a nearby wooded area, where he hoped to get a better view of the base and see exactly what kind of security they were running. He climbed up a short hill and took cover behind a small row of bushes. Shane pulled out the binoculars and handed them to Daryl.

Daryl surveyed the scene in front of him. The base was actually smaller than he anticipated, and the bright lights that enveloped the base also shot intense beams out into the darkness of the surrounding fields and wooded areas. There were two large buildings in the center, flanked on the right by six or seven smaller one-story buildings. Towards the back of the base, Daryl could see two more buildings, one in each corner, with a large paved area in between. Judging from the gas pumps, Daryl assumed those were garages for vehicle and/or equipment storage. A small helicopter was positioned near the wall closest to Daryl, but it looked like it had seen better days; an obvious splay of bullet-holes adorning the side panel.

The main entrance had a double gate made of simple chain-link with barbed wire curling over the top. A tall lookout building sat on the left side of the gate. Daryl counted six men at the entrance; four on the ground by the gate, and two more at the top of the tower. All of them were heavily armed.

The rest of the base was surrounded by a high brick wall, where another half-a-dozen men were patrolling atop the catwalk. Daryl could barely make out a small door, or some kind of opening in the wall, near the back corner ... but he was too far away to say for sure what it was. For now, it seemed the only place in or out, was the main entrance.

On one hand, Daryl was grateful since it seemed safeguarded from the dangers of the outside world. If Sara and the baby were in there, they were well-protected. On the other hand, it also meant whatever was _inside_ only had one way of getting out ... and frankly, that frightened him.

Shane nudged him on the arm, "Let me take a look". Daryl handed over the binoculars and waited patiently while Shane scanned the base.

"Only one way in or out ... far as I can see" Shane whispered.

Daryl nodded his head "I wanna git a better look at the back wall ... there may be a way in, but I can't tell from here ... need ta git closer"

Shane peered thru the binoculars once more, "It's bright as hell out there ... I'm bettin' they got motion sensors all around too." He pondered for a brief moment. "If we go around the long way, thru those side streets over there, take a position on one of those rooftops … we might be able to se without getting noticed."

Without moving his eyes off the base, Daryl answered "Well then ... that's tha way we go"

And with that, Daryl headed out into the night. They quietly maneuvered between buildings and parks, keeping to the shadows like some kind of evil demons. Shane ran ahead slightly as he spotted a fire escape of an apartment building. They climbed up three levels and made their way to the corner of the rooftop, when Daryl suddenly heard a noise. He grabbed Shane and pulled him down to crouch behind the brick wall that circled the roof.

They sat in silence; Shane's questioning look boring into the side of Daryl's head as he strained to hear the muffled voices of soldiers.

The racket came from the distance, but slowly grew closer and closer. Daryl barely made out the whispers of the men over the steady clomping of their footsteps on the concrete.

Shane pointed to the street below, and the two of them peered over the edge.

Four soldiers in fatigues were walking briskly towards a military truck that was parked across the street of the apartment building. Daryl closed his eyes in an attempt to concentrate on their hushed conversation.

"Staff Sergeant, Why in the hell are we doing' this anyway? That Doctor lost her mind a long time ago … if you ask me. We ain't seen any progress from her damn _experiments_ and frankly, I don't think we ever will."

"Private Miller, might I remind you that we are under direct orders from Sergeant Major Thomas. I don't really give a rat's ass what you think about the Doctor's state of mind. We are still members in the United States Army, God damnit, and you will follow orders!"

The Staff Sergeant stopped walking long enough to turn around and place his nose directly into the younger man's face.

"Do I make myself clear … Private?"

There was a long pause, "Yes sir Staff Sergeant"

"Good. Now … get the catchpole out of the truck so we can apprehend the target and get back to the base. Donahue, Stevens … you go around the north side of that alleyway and run interference. We'll follow the target and catch him from behind, where he can't see us. Let's get our game faces on gentlemen."

"Yes Sir" the others answered, and quickly ran to their posts.

Shane quietly sat back down behind the wall, "What the hell do you suppose _that_ was all about?"

Daryl just shrugged. "Don't know … but I'd like ta find out who this target is. C'mon, follow me"

Daryl led Shane across the rooftop to the opposite side of the building. They set up between the wall and a giant metal air duct that housed a fan that obviously stopped running a long time ago. They sat and waited until the two men came into view on the far end of the alley. A few minutes passed by when Daryl heard a low growling noise echoing off the building walls … it sounded all too familiar, as Daryl cursed under his breath.

" It's a fuckin' walker" Daryl hissed.

"What? Where?" Shane squinted his eyes to see into the darkness.

At the far end of the alley, the two recruits called quietly to the approaching hazard, in an attempt to draw it closer. Daryl couldn't see, but it looked like a man, wearing a white lab coat. One of his arms dangled at his side, and half of his face seemed to be … missing. He wobbled steadily toward the two men as the Staff Sergeant and Miller crept up behind him. In the blink of an eye, Miller had the catchpole around the 'docs' neck, yanking hard enough to knock him on the ground. The other two men quickly placed a potato sack over his head, and bound his hands and feet together. The walker continued to squirm and moan under the weight of the Staff Sergeant's foot, until he pulled out some kind of dart gun, and shot it straight into the side of the 'target'. His movements ceased and the men stepped back to catch their breath.

"Nice work gentlemen. Miller, go grab the truck. Donahue, radio the base that we'll be returning shortly with the cargo."

Daryl and Shane ducked back into the shadows of the rooftop, starring at each other in astonishment. Neither of them said a word, but they were both thinking the same thing. Obviously they captured the walker so the "Doctor" could do some kind of experiment on it. But what the hell were they trying to accomplish? Was that why the whole town was eerily peaceful? Had they taken everyone and made them pawns in some sort of sadistic attempt to cure the disease, or whatever was causing the dead to return to life?

Now, more than ever, Daryl needed to get inside of that base. So help him, if anyone had used his child …

No, He refused to even _think_ it to himself. He took one last look over the wall, watching the men load their prize into the back of the truck. As it sped off, Daryl turned to Shane to say something … when the butt of a gun was smashed against his head … and then everything went black.

***LYRICS to "Night of the Hunter" by 30 Seconds to Mars**


	15. Chapter 15 FAITH

**Crowded streets are cleared away  
>One by one<br>Hollow heroes separate  
>As they run<strong>

**You're so cold**  
><strong>Keep your hand in mine<br>Wise men wonder while strong men die**

**Show me how it ends, it's alright  
>Show me how defenseless you really are<br>Satisfied and empty inside  
>Well that's alright<br>Let's give this another try**

**If you find your family  
>Don't you cry<br>In this land of make believe  
>Dead and dry<br>You're so cold  
>but you feel alive<br>Lay your hand on me  
>One last time<strong>* 

_THUD, THUD … THUD,THUD … THUD, THUD_

The incessant sound of Daryl's heartbeat thundered through his head, slowly waking him from his stupor. He groaned loudly, using his right hand to shade his eyes from the blinding overhead light. He felt like a train had run him over after a night of binge drinking. It took a few seconds for him to remember what had happened, when he suddenly shot up. His body lurched forward but was jolted to a halt as he realized his left hand was tied to something. His eyes trailed down his arm to see the shiny cuffs attached to a bedside railing.

Before he knew it he became light-headed, undoubtedly from sitting up too fast, and had to lye back down until the dizziness subsided. He moaned out loud at the intensity of the pain shooting thru his skull. The more he tried to focus his eyes, the worse it became. He could hear the beeping of the heart rate monitor slowly speed up as his pulse quickened.

A vision of the rooftop where he and Shane had been flashed thru his mind when he heard a mumbled voice from across the room, "Easy there big guy… you have slight concussion. Best for you to rest now"

Through blurry vision, he was able to make out the shape of a figure … a woman … now standing at the foot of his bed.

"What the hell's goin' on? You best git me outta these 'fore I break 'em off!" Daryl blurted out, clanking the metal against the rail impatiently.

"Sir, you need to calm down. The handcuffs are just a precaution ... for your sake as well as mine. Now ... do you know your name?"

He cleared his throat, suddenly becoming aware of how dry his mouth was. "I'll tell ya my name when ya git these God damn handcuffs off. Who the fuck are you?" Daryl growled.

"My name is Dr. Cynthia Truman. I'm a physician here at the base." Her voice was calm, but Daryl saw the fear in her eyes. He inhaled deeply, the fumes of anger ready to spill out of his mouth at any moment. But his pain got the better of him and he found himself clutching his head once again, unable to give the good doctor a thorough piece of his mind ... just yet anyway.

"Look ... if you know your name, it tells me that the damage from the concussion is probably minimal." She walked over to his side and opened a bottle of water, putting it in his hand. Her hands were cold and lifeless, but Daryl quickly dismissed the thought as he gratefully chugged the water.

"Daryl ... name's Daryl"

She handed Daryl two small pills. "Ok ... Daryl, take these; they'll help your headache" Daryl eyed the tablets suspiciously, recalling the conversations of the soldiers on the street. _We ain't seen any progress from her damn experiments ..._

She chuckled a little. "Don't worry, it's just Ibuprofen"

Reluctantly, Daryl took the pills and finished the rest of the water, handing the bottle back to her silently. He needed to get rid of this pounding in his head, so he could think clearly. In the meantime, he decided to play nice, at least until he got some more information. Right now, he had no idea where he was, or how to go about finding Sara. He hated the thought of it ... but the 'doc' might come in handy for his purpose, so he tried his best to be civil to her.

"Do you know his name?" the doctor nodded towards the bed on Daryl's right, where Shane lay still unconscious. From the size of the bandage on his head, Daryl assumed that he got the same treatment from whoever snuck up behind them.

Daryl's throat was still uncooperative, so he whispered "Shane".

"Thank you." she muttered as she scribbled something on his chart. Daryl took the opportunity to look around, now that his eyes had fully adjusted. The room looked similar to a hospital with white walls and tile floors. There were a row of empty beds along the opposite wall, and a few more off to his left side. One door directly across from Daryl's bed had a keypad next to the knob and a small window to the left of it, which gave him a view of what looked like a laboratory. Daryl could see one dark-haired man in a white lab coat, sitting in front of a computer screen, but his face was hidden behind the book his face was buried in at the moment.

Dr. Truman stepped a little closer to Daryl, leaning down slightly, "As soon as the results come back from the blood test, the cuffs will come off, I promise."

"Yeah ... 'n how long's _that_ gonna take?" Daryl could tell the woman was starting to lose her patience.

She took a deep breath before glancing up at the clock on the wall," Actually ... it should be anytime now. Why don't I go check on them?"

She turned around and headed towards the lab, punching in the code and quickly shutting the door behind her. Daryl strained his neck to try and see what numbers she entered ... but it was no use. A few minutes passed when she emerged thru the door, holding a sheet of paper; a surprised look painted on her face.

Daryl sat up anxiously awaiting her response.

She swallowed hard, "Well, Daryl ... um, it looks like you guys are both clear. Neither one of you is infected."

Daryl rolled his eyes at the obvious remark.

The doctor pulled out a small walkie-talkie and pressed the button, "George, this is Dr. Truman. Do you copy?"

A moment later the device sprung to life and Daryl heard a man's voice boom thru the speaker.

"_Yes ma'am. What can I do for you?"_

"I'm down in patient room B. I need you to unlock some handcuffs for me"

"_Copy that. I'll be there in five_"

She returned the radio to her holster and turned to Daryl. "By the way ... I'm really sorry about the ... about how they brought you in. I've asked them more than once, not to knock out every survivor they find, but when they see someone armed, well ... I guess they perceive it as a threat" She nodded towards Shane, "You guys aren't the first ones that have been brought to me unconscious."

Daryl felt a little awkward at the compassion she seemed to show him. He wasn't sure if it was genuine or not, but as long as she got him free from confinement, he didn't really care.

"How many people are here ... at the base" He asked, squelching the questions he _really_ wanted to ask.

"Well, right now we have about a hundred and fifty; most of them military personal stationed here before ..." the good doctor suddenly clammed up, and looked away from him, when a large man with a bald head bolted in the room. He was carrying a stack of papers and folders that looked as unorganized as he did.

"Dr. Truman! How many times have I asked you to ..." he suddenly stopped when he looked up to see Daryl awake in his bed.

"When did he wake up?" he asked coldly, while giving Daryl one hell of a death-glare.

He politely returned the favor.

"Uh, Dr. Callahan, this is Daryl ... um, I'm sorry, what was your last name Daryl?"

The look in the bald man's eyes practically screamed 'I'm an asshole' and for some reason, Daryl felt the need to lie. "Smith" he calmly answered.

"Yes ... this is Daryl Smith, and Daryl ... this is Dr. Robert Callahan. He's the other attending physician here with ..."

"Truman" the man rudely interrupted, almost as if Daryl was suddenly invisible, "how many times have I asked you to file this paperwork? Hmmm? She's already on the warpath this morning, and God dammit, I don't need her down here making us all miserable, got it?"

"Got it ... sorry Bob" Cynthia grabbed the mess from his arms, and he turned one last time to look at Daryl. Then he left, without another word.

Her face seemed to redden a little as she threw the papers onto the nearest chair.

"Sorry about him. He's really not a bad guy ... just under a lot of stress, you know?"

A slight pang of guilt wracked Daryl's gut, seeing her so flustered by the obnoxious guy. "Who tha hell was he talkin' about?"

The doctor's eyes fell to the floor, "Barbara ... _Dr. Barbara Tilley_. She's chief of medicine here."

"She yer boss?" Daryl questioned.

"Yeah ... she's pretty much everyone's boss. She's okay, just a little ... demanding" her eyes looked up to meet Daryl's and suddenly, he put the pieces together. This Barbara must be the one the men were talking about the other night. Daryl started to say something when a muscular looking guard sauntered in, his keys jingling like Christmas bells.

"Hey George. Thanks for coming." Cynthia smiled. George just nodded his head and walked over to Daryl's bedside, unlocking the cuffs and putting them back on his belt.

"You may as well unlock this one too" she pointed towards Shane, " ... blood tests both came back negative".

Just when George got the key into Shane's cuffs the monitor next to him started beeping loudly, and Cynthia rushed to his side, lifting his eyelids to check his pupils. Then the lab door flew open and two nurses came in shouting about a Code Blue and some other medical jargon that Daryl couldn't make sense of.

Daryl's head was still swarming, but he knew this may be his only chance ... so he waited patiently. The older nurse bellowed something about Shane's blood pressure dropping, and the guard was quickly pushed back towards Daryl's bed, out of their way. At that very moment Daryl thanked the good Lord that he was right-handed.

He quickly slipped the gun from the guard's holster and slid it under his covers. The room was in such a state of confusion that no one even noticed. Eventually the beeping stopped but not before Cynthia kicked George out saying he was in the way ... and he left none-the-wiser.

Each second seemed to tick by slower and slower. Daryl knew that at any moment, George could realize his gun was missing, and come straight back to the room ready for a fight. Not t o mention all the others he would most likely bring with him.

Daryl just couldn't wait any longer. He scrambled out of his bed, ripping his IV out painfully.

"Daryl? What are you doing? You shouldn't be moving around yet" Cynthia exclaimed. Her eyes grew as her vision lingered on the pistol in Daryl's hand.

He approached her slowly, staring intently into her eyes.

"I need yer help"

He could see her hands starting to shake and her eyes starting to tear up. He grabbed her by the arm. Not hard enough to hurt her ... but hard enough to let her know that he meant business.

"I ain't gonna hurt ya. There's someone here I need ta find, and I need ta do it _now_."

She returned his gaze and for a fleeting moment, he thought she would scream, ruining any chance he had at getting out of there.

But instead ... she calmly nodded her head and pointed towards a cabinet to her left. "Your clothes are in there. Let me get rid of the nurses."

Daryl took a few deep breaths and let go of her arm. He didn't have any choice but to trust her right now. He grabbed his clothes and got dressed, never relinquishing the pistol; keeping one eye on her as she opened the door to the lab and mumbled something to the nurses, sending them off for supplies.

She turned to Daryl, "Who exactly are you looking for?"

He could barely get the words out, without choking on his own impatience, "A woman ... and her baby"

"A civilian?"

Daryl nodded slowly, and Cynthia's relief spilled as she whispered, "Sara"

Daryl's heart stopped, and his hands started to sweat. The twisting sensation in his stomach almost made him throw up, but he forced himself to swallow it.

"I know exactly where she is." She grabbed a lab coat out of the closet and threw it at Daryl. "Put this on ... and for Christ's sake cover up that gun. You'll never get anywhere if they see that"

Daryl followed the doctor out the door and down a long hallway. The fluorescent lighting reminded him of something from a horror movie; constantly flickering and casting eerie shadows on the walls. As he looked around, it dawned on him that there were no windows anywhere.

Cynthia made a quick right and ended up at an elevator door confirming Daryl's suspicions that they must have been underground. She ran her ID card over the scanner on the right of the door and the door opened; thankfully with no one else inside. Once the door closed Daryl inspected the pistol carefully, noting that he had a full clip. The elevator buttons on the wall indicated that they were on the bottom floor and there were 5 more floors above them.

Cynthia pushed #3 and stood back against the wall, breathing heavily. "Once these doors open, you take a right and your first left. Her room is down the hall ... number 312. I'll take a left and try and distract the guards"

Daryl opened his mouth to say thanks, but nothing came out. He didn't even know where to start, or why she was so eager to help.

She crossed the small elevator in two strides and got right in front of him, her nose practically touching his.

"You get her and the baby ... and get the hell out, ya hear?" she pushed her index finger into his chest just like Merle used to do when he was pissed off.

Before Daryl could even ask why, the door flew open and she ran out to the left, just like she had said. He waited a moment until he heard her scream at the guards, "Did you guys here the call on the radio or what? Some jackass down on 6 got a hold of the Vicodin and is threatening to eat the whole bottle!"

Daryl peered around the corner and tucked his head down, heading out of the elevator to the right. There were a few other people walking the halls in regular clothes, along with another woman in a lab coat, and a man in full camouflage. Daryl turned right just in time to avoid eye contact with the soldier and hurried down the hall until he came to room 312. He paused for a moment, wondering what in the hell he was going to say, when he noticed the soldier had turned down the same hallway. In a split second he dismissed the idea of knocking and just opened the door, quickly stepping inside and shutting it behind him.

When he turned around, he saw a woman sitting on a bed holding a baby in her arms. "Who the hell are you?" she said, protectively wrapping the baby up and backing towards the opposite wall.

Daryl heard a noise from behind the only other door in the room ... when it suddenly opened.

"Kim? Who are you talking to ou—" Sara stood in the doorway, covered in a white robe, her hair still dripping from the shower. Her eyes met Daryl's and she dropped the pile of clothes she was holding.

Sara cried out in a shaky breath, "... D.. Daryl?"

He stood there … completely frozen. He wanted to move, to say something … anything. But he couldn't. His eyes fluttered between Sara and the baby in the other woman's arms.

Sara covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes thick with disbelief. Her shoulders started to shake as the tears fell freely down her cheeks. She walked towards him slowly and reached out to him.

Daryl took her hand in his and squeezed it as tight as he could. She flung herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and weeping into his neck. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around her tiny frame, pulling her body into his. He inhaled deeply as his heart began to race.

She kissed his neck gently and whispered, "Oh God … I thought you were dead … I couldn't .. "

"Shhhh, shhh, it's okay. I'm here now" He murmured to her, gently rocking her back and forth. His hand reached up to hold her head, while she sobbed harder and harder. His own eyes began to blur as his tears tumbled down his cheeks.

He pulled back from her and cradled her face in his hands, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

When her eyes finally opened, she looked up at him, "Daryl … There's something I need to tell you" He leaned in and pressed their foreheads together.

"I already know"

She felt him slip something into her hand, and she looked down to see the crumpled ultrasound picture that she had left in her hope chest.

***Lyrics to "So Cold" by Breaking Benjamin**


	16. Chapter 16- INNOCENCE

**A/N: Sooooo here we are again! I hope you are all still out there! VERY SPECIAL THANKS to Rhanon Brodie for helping me out with my writer's block and kicking my ass into gear again! (Have you all been reading her stuff? Please do … it's absolutely amazing! And HOT to boot!)**

**Blink and you miss a beat  
>Keep one of your eyes open at all times<br>Think that you're on the brink  
>The shit hasn't even begun to hit the fan<br>Consequence you'll see will be stranger  
>Than a gang of drunken mimes<br>Situation has a stink  
>Better clear the air before your son becomes a man<strong>

**Before your son becomes a man**

**Blink everything's been augmented  
>You've been left so far behind<br>I think for sure next time  
>You should wear a pair of eyes<br>In the back of your head  
>Consequence you've seen<br>Has been stranger than sci-fi of any kind  
>Situation baffles me<br>I guess it's true you too, are one **

**of _the walking dead_**

**You better think fast, think fast  
>Cause you never know<br>What's coming around the bend  
>You better not blink<br>oh blink  
>The consequence is a bigger word than you think<strong>

**It's bigger than you or me***

Slowly Kim walked over to the couple, and handed the baby to Sara.

"I'll leave you two alone for a bit. I'll be next door if you need anything Sara." Then, she slipped quietly out the door. A smile spread over Sara's lips, as she turned to face Daryl.

"I named him Cameron", she said as she brushed his feathery hair back from his face.

"Cam ... this is your daddy" Cameron's eyes blinked a few times before he let out a long coo and a giggle.

Daryl slid his hands under Cam's arms and pulled him close to his chest. He had sandy brown hair and pale skin like Sara's that was so soft, Daryl thought for a moment he was made of silk. But his eyes … his eyes took Daryl's breath away. They were such a clear shade of blue … almost like glass. Staring into their delicate almond shape was like looking into a mirror. Cam was a perfect specimen of innocence and hope in a world without much of either one left.

Sara wrapped her arm around Daryl's waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. "He'll be six months old next week ... isn't he beautiful?" Daryl could hear the waiver in her voice and knew without looking that she was crying. He couldn't blame her ... he was doing the same thing, steamy tears falling slowly down his already flushed cheeks.

He kissed Sara gently on the forehead and whispered "He's perfect". She looked up into Daryl's eyes, "We did good, huh?" she murmured.

Daryl just nodded in response. Somehow he knew she was unsure of herself. Hell, he was too. But he couldn't help but feel as if all of the bullshit they had gone through in their childhoods had somehow made them both stronger. Connected them in some way that no one else understood. Perhaps that's what attracted him to her in the first place; a fellow human being with no urge to speak of terrible things past. Just an urge to move on.

Daryl was determined to give Cam a life that he would be proud of. Even if the dead were walking, and the living were slowly turning into different kinds of monsters. Daryl knew it wouldn't be easy, and he wasn't even sure _how_ it would all work. He just knew that Cameron would never, ever wonder if his parents really loved him.

Cam shifted in Daryl's arms, and suddenly, he seemed focused intently on Daryl's face ... reaching his tiny hand out to grab Daryl's nose. Sara chuckled quietly.

This was the first time in his life that Daryl had ever seen a human being with such clarity. His eyes were so naïve and perfect. This little child, his own child, was oblivious to the horror that lived just outside these walls. Daryl couldn't remember the last time he saw someone so innocent. Even Carl and Sophia were old enough to have seen things they shouldn't have ... and done things they shouldn't have. But Cameron ... he was so much younger, and still so tiny ... hell, he probably hadn't even seen a sunset yet. Or felt the warm grass between his toes.

Daryl tried to remember if there was ever a time that _he_ was so innocent ...

_The curtains were flapping with the gentle breeze that came through the window; the crisp summer air filling Daryl's lungs as he awoke slowly. He yawned and stretched his arms out before sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He wandered into the living room where Merle was watching cartoons on TV. He plopped himself down by his brother's side._

"_Whatcha doin?" _

"_Watchin' Superman." Merle answered, never looking away from the screen._

_Daryl watched for a few minutes, then got up and ran into the bathroom. He burst back into the living room with a towel in his hand._

"_Merle, can you make me a cape? I wanna be Superman! Please!" Daryl begged._

_Irritated, Merle turned to Daryl "I'm tryin' ta watch this Daryl! Will ya leave me alone?" He turned back to the TV set, as Daryl sat quietly on the sofa and hung his head. He decided to make his own cape and tried to tie it by himself but his fingers were just too small to get it right._

_A commercial came on, and Merle grabbed a soda from the kitchen. When he came back, he noticed Daryl trying his hardest ... and failing ... to make his cape. He stood there for a minute just looking at his little brother. _

_Daryl finally gave up, out of frustration, and lifted his eyes to meet his brother's gaze. He wasn't sure why, but Merle's expression softened and he let out a loud huff before grabbing the towel from Daryl._

"_Ya see ... here's the problem ... this thing's too big. Go get one 'a those old sheets from the basement."_

_Daryl's eyes lit up and he sprinted towards the stairs, and down into the basement. He found the old sheets and grew even more excited as he picked out a light blue one. He hurried back to Merle and watched as he ripped the sheet into the proper cape-size, for a five year old. He ripped another long strip, and wove it through the sleeves of Daryl's t-shirt and tied it to the cape._

"_There ... that oughta do fer now. Just don't let Ma catch ya flyin' off the porch."_

"_THANKS MERLE!" Daryl screamed as he ran around the house with his arms out making airplane noises as best as he could. Merle just shook his head and laughed._

"Daryl? You okay?"

Daryl blinked hard and turned as Sara was clearing a few things off of the bed.

He squeezed Cam's hand softly, "Yeah ... I'm good"

For the first time, in a very long while, Daryl felt an excitement growing inside of him. That nervous feeling tinged with fear that hides behind the exhilaration of something new. It seemed like decades since he'd had that feeling ... and for all he knew, it _had_ been. An image of Merle teaching him how to change gears on the motorcycle bolted through his mind, and he savored the way his heartbeat seemed to strengthen and his head cleared instantly.

He looked around at the meager accommodations. It wasn't much to look at, but after living in a tent for months on end, this could have passed for the Hilton.

"So ... is it true? I mean, that the dead are ... coming back to life out there?"

Daryl inhaled Cam's scent deeply; baby powder and soap filled his lungs, as if it was fuel for his body. He passed Cam back to Sara, and sat her on the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of her.

"You ain't never seen a walker, have ya?" He asked calmly.

The look on her face gave him his answer. "_Walker_. Is that what you call 'em?"

Daryl shrugged, "among other things"

"Oh my God" Sara's head hung "I can't believe it ... I mean, I heard all of the stories, but ..."

"Sara" Daryl interrupted, "Look ... I ain't tryin' ta be an ass ... but I need you to start packin'. We gotta git outta here. The sooner, the better. "

"Wait ... you just _got_ here! Why would we leave? It's not safe out there for Cam!" She started to push back from Daryl "Dr. Tilley told me that-"

"I don't care what some crazy-ass doctor told ya! The only way you're gonna be safe, is if you come with me! Ain't no one looking out for anyone but themselves these days ... and that's a fact. I didn't come all this way to stay here, locked up like some animal"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa ... Daryl! Have you lost your mind? We aren't locked up here, we're being protected! From those ... _walkers_, or whatever the hell you call them ... and what do you mean by _crazy-ass_ doctor? Barb has been nothing but nice to me. She saved my life, Daryl!" Sara locked eyes with him. "She saved _your son's_ life too".

The words stung Daryl like a slap in the face. This was the first time he'd heard them out loud. _Your son._

And he hadn't been there to protect him ...

Sara got up and walked slowly over to the small playpen, placing Cam in it and grabbing a small teddy bear. She stroked his belly for a minute before Cam's little fingers latched on to it, pulling it from her grip.

The air in the room thinned into nothing ... and Daryl found himself short of breath. Sometimes, the dead were easier to deal with.

"Besides ... Cam can't get his vaccinations until he turns six months old. There's no way I'm leaving before he gets those. He's made it all this time without catching that horrible infection ... we just have to hold on for six more days"

Daryl's head was spinning, "What vaccinations?"

"You know ... mumps, measles, chicken pox ... the same stuff we got when we were little" Sara stood up as Daryl moved in close to her. "And of course the new one ... ah, what do they call it ... FR3"

Daryl's eyes narrowed "What tha hell's FR3?"

Sara looked at Daryl like he just shit on the floor. "You're joking, right? FR3 ... the vaccine for the infection" She took a small step back that anyone else might not have caught. "Didn't they give it to you when you got here?"

"I don't know for sure."

"What do you mean, you don't know? How can you not know?"

Daryl scratched his head, trying to make sense of everything. "I don't KNOW Sara! I was unconscious when they brought me here, so Lord knows what tha hell they did ta me"

Sara was beyond puzzled. Sitting back down on the bed, she began to rub her temples. Daryl paced in front of the playpen, where Cam seemed perfectly content to slobber on the face of the teddy bear.

"I don't know what they told ya here, Sara. But there ain't no cure ... and there sure as hell ain't no vaccine. Once you've been bit ... it's all over. End of story."

"That's not true Daryl" but it sounded more like a question than a statement. "Barb is the one that found the cure. I've seen it! She's helped other people , other ... survivors. Her whole team has been making trips to the CDC to get more supplies, so they can keep making it." Her voice was almost pleading now, "matter of fact ... some men just came back yesterday with more stuff, I ..."

"The CDC?" Daryl cut her off "Sara ... there ain't nothin' left of the damn CDC! I was stuck inside the fuckin' thing for two days before it got blown to shit!"

"But Daryl, I don't ... understand ... I ..."

Daryl paused a moment to collect his thoughts. He looked over at Sara and he could see the color had drained from her face, and the tears hovered at the edge of her eyes. She was having trouble comprehending everything that Daryl was telling her. She knew Daryl didn't lie ... it wasn't ingrained in him like so many others. He always told her the truth, no matter what. To him, lying was just a waste of time and energy.

He sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I don't know what all's goin' on around here ... but somthin' ain't right. We can talk about everything later ... but right now, we need ta leave. I got a car waitin' at yer place, loaded up with everything I could find, and all yer stuff that I could fit. Please ... just trust me."

She looked up into his eyes, her lower lip trembling a little.

He brushed her hair out of her eyes, and held her chin up with his fingers, "Ya still trust me, right?" he asked softly.

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, "Of course I do Daryl, but-"

He interrupted her, by pressing his lips firmly to hers. Her arms snaked around his waist and she seemed to melt into his body. He wound his hand through the hair at the base of her neck, and her mouth opened just enough for his tongue to slip inside. He hadn't realized how much he missed being close to her, and he felt her clutch at his shirt.

_Knock, knock, knock_

"Sara? It's me ... Kim. Can I come in?"

_Damn._

Sara opened her eyes, still glazed over with lust. She took a deep breath and let go of Daryl, heading towards the front of the room, on wobbly legs. The locked clicked open, and she stood back to let Kim pass her by.

When she entered, she shared a long, frightened look with Daryl before standing in the middle of the room silently. Sara glanced back at Daryl, then to Kim once more. "You all right Kim?"

Kim's eyes dropped to the floor, as Sara started to shut the door ...

In the blink of an eye, the camo-covered men stormed into the room, shouting orders and pointing their weapons at Daryl. Sara shrieked and Daryl instinctively grabbed her and flung her in front of the playpen to cover Cam, while he moved towards the bathroom, keeping the possible path of bullets as far away from them as he could.

"Put your hands up, and drop to your knees!"

Daryl's heart was ready to leap out of his chest, but he obeyed the orders, in a desperate attempt to keep the focus on himself, and not his son. Kim ran to Sara's side, fumbling a quick apology, and Daryl could see the red marks on her arms that resembled hand prints ... and he knew that she'd been forced to come to the door.

"Oh my God, what are you doing?" Sara shouted. "He hasn't done anything wrong! Leave him alone!"

One man stepped in front of the others and lowered his gun. "Really? So stealing a weapon from an armed officer isn't wrong?" The man holstered his weapon and hoisted Daryl up to his feet, before frisking him and pulling the small hand gun out of the waist of his pants.

Sara's eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at Daryl.

He didn't know what to say ... he felt like he had let her down somehow. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. But all he could think about was Cam. Ironically, his previous 'experiences' with the authorities had always made him angry. And it usually intensified when it came to Daryl being hauled around like a piece of trash. But he was different. He could still feel Cam's tiny little hands on his own, and somehow it grounded him, made him feel important. That little boy was turning him into a father, and he had only seen him for the first time a half-hour ago.

Course, that didn't mean that the _take-no-shit _side of him was gone either.

"Maybe if yer guard eased up on the Twinkies, he would have noticed someone taking tha piece right off his hip" Daryl snickered. The man didn't respond but instead slapped the cuffs on Daryl ... again.

"Where are you taking him?" Sara pleaded with the officer.

Daryl was escorted out of the room, and another man in uniform stepped up to her, "He broke the law ma'am. He's got to be punished, just like the rest of us. He'll be locked up down on 5." The man's voice turned a touch softer, "If you want to see him, you'll have to wait until tomorrow"

And just as fast as they came in, the men were gone.

***Lyrics to "Consequence" by Incubus**


End file.
